Chapter XII: Part 1

George and Harry, with their tutor, one day in their walk, were driven by the rain to take shelter in a blacksmith’s shop; and the shower lasting some time, the boys, in order to amuse themselves, began to examine the things around them. The great bellows first attracted their notice, and they admired the roaring it made, and the expedition with which it raised the fire to a heat too intense for them to look at. They were surprised at the dexterity with which the smith fashioned a bar of iron into a horseshoe; first heating it, then hammering it well on the anvil, cutting off a proper length, bending it round, turning up the ends, and lastly, punching the nail-holes. They watched the whole process of fitting it to the horse’s foot, and fastening it on; and it had become fair some minutes before they showed a desire to leave the shop and proceed on their walk.

“I should never have thought,” says George, beginning the conversation, “that such a hard thing as iron could have been so easily managed.”

“Nor I neither,” said Harry.

_Tut._ It was managed, you saw, by the help of fire. The fire made it soft and flexible, so that the smith could easily hammer it, and cut it, and bend it to the shape he wanted; and then dipping it in the water made it hard again.

_Geo._ Are all other metals managed in the same manner?

_Tut._ They are all worked by the help of fire in some way or other, either in melting them, or making them soft.

_Geo._ There are a good many sorts of metals, are there not?

_Tut._ Yes, several; and if you have a mind I will tell you about them, and their uses.

_Geo._ Pray do, sir.

_Har._ Yes; I should like to hear it of all things.

_Tut._ Well, then. First, let us consider what a metal is. Do you think you should know one from a stone?

_Geo._ A stone!—Yes, I could not mistake a piece of lead or iron for a stone.

_Tut._ How would you distinguish it?

_Geo._ A metal is bright and shining.

_Tut._ True—brilliance is one of their qualities. But glass and crystal are very bright, too.

_Har._ But one may see through glass, and not through a piece of metal.

_Tut._ Right. Metals are brilliant, but opaque, or not transparent. The thinnest plate of metal that can be made will keep out the light as effectually as a stone-wall.

_Geo._ Metals are very heavy, too.

_Tut._ True. They are the heaviest bodies in nature; for the lightest metal is nearly twice as heavy as the heaviest stone. Well, what else?

_Geo._ Why, they will bear beating with a hammer, which a stone would not, without flying in pieces.

_Tut._ Yes: that property of extending or spreading under the hammer, is called _malleability_; and another, like it, is that of bearing to be drawn out into a wire, which is called _ductility_. Metals have both these, and much of their use depends upon them.

_Geo._ Metals will melt, too.

_Har._ What! will iron melt?

_Tut._ Yes; all metals will melt, though some require greater heat than others. The property of melting is called _fusibility_. Do you know anything more about them?

_Geo._ No; except that they come out of the ground, I believe.

_Tut._ That is properly added, for it is this circumstance which makes them rank among _fossils_, or minerals. To sum up their character, then, a metal is a brilliant, opaque, heavy, malleable, ductile, and fusible mineral.

_Geo._ I think I can hardly remember all that.

_Tut._ The _names_ may slip your memory, but you cannot see metals at all used, without being sensible of the _things_.

_Geo._ But what are _ores_? I remember seeing a heap of iron ore which men were breaking with hammers, and it looked only like stones.

_Tut._ The _ore_ of a metal is the state in which it is generally met with in the earth, when it is so mixed with stony and other matters, as not to show its proper qualities as a metal.

_Har._ How do people know it, then?

_Tut._ By experience. It was probably accident that in the early ages discovered that certain fossils by the force of fire might be made to yield a metal. The experiment was repeated on other fossils; so that in length of time all the different metals were found out, and all the different forms in which they lie concealed in the ground. The knowledge of this is called _mineralogy_, and a very important science it is.

_Geo._ Yes, I suppose so: for metals are very valuable things. Our next neighbour, Mr. Stirling, I have heard, gets a great deal of money every year, from his mines in Wales.

_Tut._ He does. The mineral riches of some countries are much superior to that of their products above ground, and the revenues of many kings are in great part derived from their mines.

_Har._ I suppose they must be gold and silver mines?

_Tat._ Those, to be sure, are the most valuable, if the metals are found in tolerable abundance. But do you know why they are so?

_Har._ Because money is made of gold and silver.

_Tut._ That is a principal reason, no doubt. But these metals have intrinsic properties that make them highly valuable, else probably they would not have been chosen in so many countries to make money of. In the first place, gold and silver are both _perfect metals_, that is, indestructible in the fire. Other metals, if kept a considerable time in the fire, change by degrees into an earthy, scaly matter, called an oxide. You have melted lead, I dare say?

_Geo._ Yes, often.

_Tut._ Have you not, then, perceived a drossy film collect upon its surface, after it had kept melting a while?

_Geo._ Yes.

_Tut._ That is an oxide; and in time the whole lead would change to such a substance. You may see, too, when you have heated the poker red-hot, some scales separate from it, which are brittle.

_Har._ Yes, the kitchen poker is almost burnt away by putting into the fire.

_Tut._ Well—all metals undergo these changes, except gold and silver; but these, if kept ever so long in the hottest fire, sustain no loss or change. They are therefore called _perfect metals_. Gold has several other remarkable properties. It is the heaviest of all metals.

_Har._ What, is it heavier than lead?

_Tut._ Yes—about half as heavy again. It is between nineteen and twenty times as heavy as an equal bulk of water. This great weight is a ready means of discovering counterfeit gold coin from genuine; for as gold must be adulterated with something much lighter than itself, a false coin, if of the same weight with the true, will be sensibly bigger. Gold, too, is the most ductile of all metals. You have seen gold-leaf?

_Geo._ Yes; I bought a book of it once.

_Tut._ Gold-leaf is made by beating a plate of gold placed between pieces of skin, with heavy hammers, till it is spread out to the utmost degree of thinness. And so great is its capacity for being extended, that a single grain of the metal, which would be scarce bigger than a large pin’s head, is beaten out to a surface of fifty square inches.

_Geo._ That is wonderful, indeed! But I know gold-leaf must be very thin, for it will almost float upon the air.

_Tut._ By drawing gold out to a wire, it may be still farther extended. Gold wire, as it is called, is made with silver overlaid with a small proportion of gold, and they are drawn out together. In the wire commonly used for laces, and embroidery, and the like, a grain of gold is made completely to cover a length of three hundred and fifty-two feet; and when it is stretched still farther by flatting, it will reach four hundred and one feet.

_Geo._ Prodigious! What a vast way a guinea might be drawn out, then!

_Tut._ Yes, the gold of a guinea at that rate would reach above nine miles and a half. This property in gold of being capable of extension to so extraordinary a degree, is owing to its great tenacity or cohesion of particles, which is such, that you can scarcely break a piece of gold wire by twisting it.

_Har._ Then it would make very good wire for hanging bells.

_Tut._ It would; but such bell-hanging would come rather too dear. Another valuable quality of gold, is its fine colour. You know scarce anything makes a more splendid appearance than gilding. And a peculiar advantage of it is, that gold is not liable to rust or tarnish, as other metals are. It will keep its colour fresh for a great many years, in a pure and clear air.

_Har._ I remember the vane of the church-steeple was new-gilt two years ago, and it looks as well as at first.

_Tut._ This property of not rusting would render gold very useful for a variety of purposes, if it were more common. It would make excellent cooking utensils, water-pipes, mathematical instruments, clockwork, and the like.

_Geo._ But is not gold soft? I have seen pieces of gold bent double.

_Tut._ Yes; it is next in softness to lead, and, therefore, when it is made into coin, or used for any common purposes, it is mixed with a small proportion of some other metal, in order to harden it. This is called its _alloy_. Our gold coin has one twelfth of alloy, which is copper.

_Geo._ How beautiful new gold coin is!

_Tut._ Yes—scarce any metal takes a stamp or impression better; and it is capable of a very fine polish.

_Geo._ What countries yield the most gold?

_Tut._ South America, the East Indies, and the coast of Africa. Europe affords but little; yet a moderate quantity is got every year from Hungary.

_Geo._ I have heard of rivers rolling sands of gold. Is there any truth in that?

_Tut._ The poets, as usual, have exaggerated the matter: however, there are various streams in different parts of the world, the sands of which contain particles of gold, and some of them in such quantity as to be worth the search.

_Har._ How does the gold come there?

_Tut._ It is washed down along with the soil from mountains by the torrents which are the sources of rivers. Some persons say that all sands contain gold; but I would not advise you to take the pains to search for it in our common sand: for, in more senses than one, _gold may be bought too dear_.

_Har._ But what a fine thing it would be to find a gold mine on one’s estate!

_Tut._ Perhaps not so fine as you may imagine, for many a one does not pay the cost of working. A coal-pit would probably be a better thing. Who do you think are the greatest gold-finders in Europe?

_Har._ I don’t know.

_Tut._ The gipsies in Hungary. A number of half-starved, half-naked wretches of that community employ themselves in washing and picking the sands of some mountain-streams in that country which contain gold, from which they obtain just profit enough to keep body and soul together: whereas, did they employ themselves in agriculture or manufactures, they might have got a comfortable subsistence. Gold, almost all the world over, is first got by slaves, and it makes slaves of those who possess much of it.

_Geo._ For my part, I will be content with a silver mine.

_Har._ But we have none of those in England, have we?

_Tut._ We have no silver mines, properly so called, but silver is procured in some of our lead mines. There are, however, valuable silver mines in various parts of Europe; but the richest of all are in Peru, in South America.

_Geo._ Are not the famous mines of Potosi there?

_Tut._ They are. Shall I now tell you some of the properties of silver?

_Geo._ By all means.

_Tut._ It is another _perfect_ metal. It is also as little liable to rust as gold, though indeed it readily gets tarnished.

_Har._ Yes; I know our footman is often obliged to clean our plate before it is used.

_Tut._ Plate, however, is not made of pure silver, any more than silver coin, and silver utensils of all kinds. Copper is mixed with it, as with gold, to harden it; and that makes it more liable to tarnish.

_Geo._ Bright silver, I think, is almost as beautiful as gold.

_Tut._ It is the most beautiful of the white metals, and is capable of a very fine polish; and this, together with its rarity, makes it used for a great variety of ornamental purposes. Then it is nearly as ductile and malleable as gold.

_Geo._ I have had silver-leaf, and it seemed as thin as gold-leaf.

_Tut._ It is nearly so. That is used for silvering, as gold-leaf is for gilding. It is common, too, to cover metals with a thin coating of silver which is called plating.

_Har._ The child’s saucepan is silvered over on the inside. What is that for?

_Tut._ To prevent the victuals from getting any taint from the metal of the saucepan; for silver is not capable of being corroded or dissolved by any of the liquids used for food, as iron and copper are.

_Har._ And that is the reason I suppose that fruit-knives are made of silver.

_Tut._ It is; but the softness of the metal makes them bear a very poor edge.

_Geo._ Does silver melt easily?

_Tut._ Silver and gold both melt more difficultly than lead; not till they are above a common red heat. As to the weight of silver, it is nearly one half less than that of gold, being only eleven times as heavy as water.

_Har._ Is quicksilver a kind of silver?

_Tut._ It takes its name from silver, being very like it in colour; but in reality it is a very different thing, and one of the most singular of the metal kind.

_Geo._ It is not _malleable_, I am sure.

_Tut._ No; not when it is quick or fluid, as it always is in our climate. But a very great degree of cold makes it solid, and then it is malleable like other metals.

_Geo._ I have heard of _killing_ quicksilver; pray, what does that mean?

_Tut._ It means destroying its property of running about, by mixing it with something else. Thus if quicksilver be well rubbed with fat, or oil, or gum, it unites with them, losing all its metallic appearance or fluidity. It also unites readily with gold and silver, and several other metals, into a kind of shining paste, which is called an _amalgam_. This is one of the ways of gilding or silvering a thing. Your buttons are gilt by means of an amalgam.

_Geo._ How is that done?

_Tut._ The shells of the buttons, which are made of copper, are shaken in a hat with a lump of amalgam of gold and quicksilver, till they are all covered over with it. They are then put into a sort of frying-pan, and held over the fire. The quicksilver, being very volatile in its nature, flies off in the form of a smoke or vapour when it is heated, leaving the gold behind it spread over the surface of the button. Thus many dozens are gilt at once with the greatest ease.

_Geo._ What a clever way! I should like vastly to see it done.

_Tut._ You may see it any day at Birmingham, if you happen to be there; as well as a great many other curious operations on metals.

_Geo._ What a weight quicksilver is! I remember taking up a bottleful of it, and I had liked to have dropped it again, it was so much heavier than I expected.

_Tut._ Yes, it is one of the heaviest of the metals—about fifteen times as heavy as water.

_Geo._ Is not _mercury_ a name for quicksilver? I have heard them talk of the mercury rising and falling in the weather-glass.

_Tut._ It is. You, perhaps, may have heard too of _mercurial medicines_, which are those made of quicksilver prepared in one manner or another.

_Geo._ What are they good for?

_Tut._ For a great variety of complaints. Your brother took some lately for the worms; and they are often given for breakings-out on the skin, and for sores and swellings. But they have one remarkable effect, when taken in a considerable quantity, which is to loosen the teeth, and cause a great spitting. This is called salivation.

_Har._ I used to think quicksilver was poison.

_Tut._ When it is in its common state of running quicksilver it generally does neither good nor harm; but it may be prepared, so as to be a very violent medicine, or even a poison.

_Geo._ Is it useful for anything else?

_Tut._ Yes—For a variety of purposes in the arts, which I cannot now very well explain to you. But you will perhaps be surprised to hear that one of the finest red paints is made from quicksilver.

_Geo._ A red paint!—which is that?

_Tut._ Vermilion, or cinnabar, which is a particular mixture of sulphur with quicksilver.

_Har._ Is quicksilver found in this country?

_Tut._ No. The greatest quantity comes from Spain, Istria, and South America. It is a considerable object of commerce, and bears a high value, though much inferior to silver. Well, so much for metals at present. We will talk of the rest on some future opportunity.

FLYING AND SWIMMING.

“How I wish I could fly!” cried Robert, as he was gazing after his pigeons that were exercising themselves in a morning’s flight. “How fine it must be to soar to such a height, and to dash through the air with so swift a motion!”

“I doubt not,” said his father, “that the pigeons have great pleasure in it; but we have our pleasures, too; and it is idle to indulge longings for things quite out of our power.”

_Robert._ But do you think it impossible for men to learn to fly?

_Father._ I do—for I see they are not furnished by Nature with organs requisite for the purpose.

_Rob._ Might not artificial wings be contrived, such as Dædalus is said to have used?

_Fa._ Possibly they might; but the difficulty would be to put them in motion.

_Rob._ Why could not a man move them, if they were fastened to his shoulders, as well as a bird?

_Fa._ Because he has got arms to move which the bird has not. The same organs which in quadrupeds are employed to move the fore-legs, and in man the arms, are used by birds in the motion of the wings. Nay, muscles or bundles of flesh, that move the wings, are proportionally much larger and stronger than those bestowed upon our arms; so that it is impossible, formed as we are, that we should use wings, were they made and fastened on with ever so much art.

_Rob._ But angels, and cupids, and such things are painted with wings; and I think they look very natural.

_Fa._ To you they may appear so; but an anatomist sees them at once to be monsters, which could not really exist.

_Rob._ God might have created winged men, however, if he had pleased.

_Fa._ No doubt; but they could not have had the same shape that men have now. They would have been different creatures, such as it was not in his plan to make. But you that long to fly—consider if you have made use of all the faculties already given you! You want to subdue the element of air—what can you do with that of water? Can you swim?

_Rob._ No, not yet.

_Fa._ Your companion, Johnson, I think, can swim very well?

_Rob._ Yes.

_Fa._ Reflect, then, on the difference betwixt him and you. A boat oversets with you both in a deep stream. You plump at once to the bottom, and infallibly lose your life. He rises like a cork, darts away with the greatest ease, and reaches the side in perfect safety. Both of you, pursued by a bull, come to the side of a river. He jumps in and crosses it. You are drowned if you attempt it, and tossed by the bull if you do not. What an advantage he has over you! Yet you are furnished with exactly the same bodily powers that he is. How is this?

_Bob._ Because he has been taught, and I have not.

_Fa._ True, but it is an easy thing to learn, and requires no other instruction than boys can give one another when they bathe together: so that I wonder anybody should neglect to acquire an art at once agreeable and useful. The Romans used to say, by way of proverb, of a blockhead, “He can neither read nor swim.” You may remember how Cesar was saved at Alexandria by throwing himself into the sea, and swimming with one hand, while he held up his commentaries with the other.

_Rob._ I should like very well to swim, and I have often tried, but I always pop under water, and that daunts me.

_Fa._ And it is that fear which prevents you from succeeding.

_Rob._ But is it as natural for man to swim as for other creatures? I have heard that the young of all other animals swim the first time they are thrown into the water.

_Fa._ They do—they are without fear. In our climate the water is generally cold, and is early made an object of terror. But in the hot countries, where bathing is one of the greatest pleasures, young children swim so early and well, that I should suppose they take to it almost naturally.

_Rob._ I am resolved to learn, and will ask Johnson to take me with him to the river.

_Fa._ Do; but let him find you a safe place to begin at. I don’t want you, however, to proceed so cautiously as Sir Nicholas Gimcrack did.

_Rob._ How was that?

_Fa._ He spread himself out on a large table, and placing before him a basin of water with a frog in it, he struck with his arms and legs as he observed the animal do.

_Rob._ And did that teach him?

_Fa._ Yes—to swim on dry land; but he never ventured himself in the water.

_Rob._ Shall I get corks or bladders?

_Fa._ No; learn to depend on your own powers. It is a good lesson in other things, as well as in swimming. Learning to swim with corks, is like learning to construe Latin with a translation on the other side. It saves some pains at first, but the business is not done half so effectually.

THE FEMALE CHOICE.—A TALE.

A young girl, having fatigued herself one hot day with running about the garden, sat herself down in a pleasant arbour, where she presently fell asleep. During her slumbers, two female figures presented themselves before her. One was loosely habited in a thin robe of pink with light green trimmings. Her sash of silver gauze flowed to the ground. Her fair hair fell in ringlets down her neck; and her head-dress consisted of artificial flowers interwoven with feathers. She held in one hand a ball-ticket, and in the other a fancy-dress all covered with spangles and knots of gay riband. She advanced smiling to the girl, and with a familiar air thus addressed her:—

“My dearest Melissa, I am a kind genius, who have watched you from your birth, and have joyfully beheld all your beauties expand, till at length they have rendered you a companion worthy of me. See what I have brought you. This dress and this ticket will give you free access to all the ravishing delights of my palace. With me you will pass your days in a perpetual round of ever-varying amusements. Like the gay butterfly, you will have no other business than to flutter from flower to flower, and spread your charms before admiring spectators. No restraints, no toils, no dull tasks are to be found within my happy domains. All is pleasure, life, and good humour. Come, then, my dear! Let me put this dress on you, which will make you quite enchanting; and away, away, with me!”

Melissa felt a strong inclination to comply with the call of this inviting nymph; but first she thought it would be prudent at least to ask her name.

“My name,” said she, “is DISSIPATION.”

The other female then advanced. She was clothed in a close habit of brown stuff, simply relieved with white. She wore her smooth hair under a plain cap. Her whole person was perfectly neat and clean. Her look was serious, but satisfied; and her air was staid and composed. She held in one hand a distaff; on the opposite arm hung a workbasket; and the girdle round her waist was garnished with scissors, knitting needles, reels, and other implements of female labour. A bunch of keys hung at her side. She thus accosted the sleeping girl:—

“Melissa, I am the genius who have ever been the friend and companion of your mother; and I now offer my protection to you. I have no allurements to tempt you with, like those of my gay rival. Instead of spending all your time in amusements, if you enter yourself of my train, you must rise early, and pass the long day in a variety of employments, some of them difficult, some laborious, and all requiring some exertion of body or mind. You must dress plainly, live mostly at home, and aim at being useful rather than shining. But in return I will ensure you content, even spirits, self-approbation, and the esteem of all who thoroughly know you. If these offers appear to your young mind less inviting than those of my rival, be assured, however, that they are more real. She has promised much more than she can ever make good. Perpetual pleasures are no more in the power of Dissipation, than of Vice or Folly to bestow. Her delights quickly pall, and are inevitably succeeded by languor and disgust. She appears to you under disguise, and what you see is not her real face. For myself, I shall never seem to you less amiable than I now do, but, on the contrary, you will like me better and better. If I look grave to you now, you will hear me sing at my work; and when work is over, I can dance too. But I have said enough. It is time for you to choose whom you will follow, and upon that choice all your happiness depends. If you would know my name, it is HOUSEWIFERY.”

Melissa heard her with more attention than delight; and though overawed by her manner, she could not help turning again to take another look at the first speaker. She beheld her still offering her presents with so bewitching an air that she felt it scarcely possible to resist: when, by a lucky accident, the mask with which Dissipation’s face was so artfully covered, fell off. As soon as Melissa beheld, instead of the smiling features of youth and cheerfulness, a countenance wan and ghastly with sickness, and soured by fretfulness, she turned away with horror, and gave her hand unreluctantly to her sober and sincere companion.

Eyes and No Eyes, p. 242.

EVENING XX.
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ON METALS.