How the heat-waves act, and the laws, if any, which they obey in their subterranean movements, we are unable to judge. From the properties which heat possesses we know that its presence or absence produces marked differences in the positions of the strata of the earth, and from observations made in connection with the closing of some volcanoes, and the opening up of fresh earth-vents, we have gone a long way towards establishing the probability that there are even now slow and ponderous movements taking place in the heat stored in the earth's crust, whose effects are appreciably communicated to the outside of the thin rind of solid earth upon which we live.
Owing to the great igneous and volcanic activity at the close of the deposition of the carboniferous system of strata, the coal-measures exhibit what are known as faults in abundance. The mountain limestone, where it outcrops at the surface, is observed to be much jointed, so much so that the work of quarrying the limestone is greatly assisted by the jointed structure of the rock. Faults differ from joints in that, whilst the strata in the latter are still in relative position on each side of the joint, they have in the former slipped out of place. In such a case the continuation of a stratum on the opposite side of a fault will be found to be depressed, perhaps a thousand feet or more. It will be seen at once how that, in sinking a new shaft into a coal-seam, the possibility of an unknown fault has to be brought into consideration, since the position of the seam may prove to have been depressed to such an extent as to cause it to be beyond workable depth. Many seams, on the other hand, which would have remained altogether out of reach of mining operations, have been brought within workable depth by a series of step-faults, this being a term applied to a series of parallel faults, in none of which the amount of down-throw is great.
The amount of the down-throw, or the slipping-down of the beds, is measured, vertically, from the point of disappearance of a layer to an imaginary continuation of the same layer from where it again appears beyond the fault. The plane of a fault is usually more or less inclined, the amount of the inclination being known as the hade of the fault, and it is a remarkable characteristic of faults that, as a general rule, they hade to the down-throw. This will be more clearly understood when it is explained that, by its action, a seam of coal, which is subject to numerous faults, can never be pierced more than once by one and the same boring. In mountainous districts, however, there are occasions when the hade is to the up-throw, and this kind of fault is known as an inverted fault.
Lines of faults extend sometimes for hundreds of miles. The great Pennine Fault of England is 130 miles long, and others extend for much greater distances. The surfaces on both sides of a fault are often smooth and highly polished by the movement which has taken place in the strata. They then show the phenomenon known as slicken-sides. Many faults have become filled with crystalline minerals in the form of veins of ore, deposited by infiltrating waters percolating through the natural fissures.
In considering the formation and structure of the better-known coal-bearing beds of the carboniferous age, we must not lose sight of the fact that important beds of coal also occur in strata of much more recent date. There are important coal-beds in India of Permian age. There are coal-beds of Liassic age in South Hungary and in Texas, and of Jurassic age in Virginia, as well as at Brora in Sutherlandshire; there are coals of Cretaceous age in Moravia, and valuable Miocene Tertiary coals in Hungary and the Austrian Alps.
Again, older than the true carboniferous age, are the Silurian anthracites of Co. Cavan, and certain Norwegian coals, whilst in New South Wales we are confronted with an assemblage of coal-bearing strata which extend apparently from the Devonian into Mesozoic times.
Still, the age we have considered more closely has an unrivalled right to the title, coal appearing there not merely as an occasional bed, but as a marked characteristic of the formation.
The types of animal life which are found in this formation are varied, and although naturally enough they do not excel in number, there are yet sufficient varieties to show probabilities of the existence of many with which we are unfamiliar. The highest forms yet found, show an advance as compared with those from earlier formations, and exhibit amphibian characteristics intermediate between the two great classes of fishes and reptiles. Numerous specimens proper to the extinct order of labyrinthodontia have been arranged into at least a score of genera, these having been drawn from the coal-measures of Newcastle, Edinburgh, Kilkenny, Saärbruck, Bavaria, Pennsylvania, and elsewhere. The Archegosaurus, which we have figured, and the Anthracosaurus, are forms which appear to have existed in great numbers in the swamps and lakes of the age. The fish of the period belong almost entirely to the ancient orders of the ganoids and placoids. Of the ganoids, the great megalichthys Hibberti ranges throughout the whole of the system. Wonderful accumulations of fish remains are found at the base of the system, in the bone-bed of the Bristol coal-field, as well as in a similar bed at Armagh. Many fishes were armed with powerful conical teeth, but the majority, like the existing Port Jackson shark, were possessed of massive palates, suited in some cases for crushing, and in others for cutting.
[Illustration: FIG. 24.—Archegosaurus minor. Coal-measures.]
[Illustration: FIG. 25.—Psammodus porosus. Crushing palate of a fish.]
[Illustration: FIG. 26.—Orthoceras. Mountain limestone.]
In the mountain limestone we see, of course, the predominance of marine types, encrinital remains forming the greater proportion of the mass. There are occasional plant remains which bear evidence of having drifted for some distance from the shore. But next to the encrinites, the corals are the most important and persistent. Corals of most beautiful forms and capable of giving polished marble-like sections, are in abundance. Polyzoa are well represented, of which the lace-coral (fenestella) and screw-coral (archimedopora) are instances. Cephalopoda are represented by the orthoceras, sometimes five or six feet long, and goniatites, the forerunner of the familiar ammonite. Many species of brachiopods and lammellibranchs are met with. Lingula, most persistent throughout all geological time, is abundant in the coal-shales, but not in the limestones. Aviculopecten is there abundant also. In the mountain limestone the last of the trilobites (Phillipsia) is found.
[Illustration: FIG. 27.—Fenestella retipora. Mountain limestone.]
[Illustration: FIG. 28.—Goniatites. Mountain limestone.]
We have evidence of the existence in the forests of a variety of centipede, specimens having been found in the erect stump of a hollow tree, although the fossil is an extremely rare one. The same may be said of the only two species of land-snail which have been found connected with the coal forests, viz., pupa vetusta and zonites priscus, both discovered in the cliffs of Nova Scotia. These are sufficient to demonstrate that the fauna of the period had already reached a high stage of development. In the estuaries of the day, masses of a species of freshwater mussel (anthracosia) were in existence, and these have left their remains in the shape of extensive beds of shells. They are familiar to the miner as mussel-binds, and are as noticeable a feature of this long ago period, as are the aggregations of mussels on every coast at the present day.
[Illustration: FIG. 29.—Aviculopecten papyraceus. Coal-shale.]
CHAPTER III.
VARIOUS FORMS OF COAL AND CARBON.
In considering the various forms and combinations into which coal enters, it is necessary that we should obtain a clear conception of what the substance called "carbon" is, and its nature and properties generally, since this it is which forms such a large percentage of all kinds of coal, and which indeed forms the actual basis of it. In the shape of coke, of course, we have a fairly pure form of carbon, and this being produced, as we shall see presently, by the driving off of the volatile or vaporous constituents of coal, we are able to perceive by the residue how great a proportion of coal consists of carbon. In fact, the two have almost an identical meaning in the popular mind, and the fact that the great masses of strata, in which are contained our principal and most valuable seams of coal, are termed "carboniferous," from the Latin carbo, coal, and fero, I bear, tends to perpetuate the existence of the idea.
There is always a certain, though slight, quantity of carbon in the air, and this remains fairly constant in the open country. Small though it may be in proportion to the quantity of pure air in which it is found, it is yet sufficient to provide the carbon which is necessary to the growth of vegetable life. Just as some of the animals known popularly as the zoophytes, which are attached during life to rocks beneath the sea, are fed by means of currents of water which bring their food to them, so the leaves, which inhale carbon-food during the day through their under-surfaces, are provided with it by means of the currents of air which are always circulating around them; and while the fuel is being taken in beneath, the heat and light are being received from above, and the sun supplies the motive power to digestion.
It is assumed that it is, within the knowledge of all that, for the origin of the various seams and beds of coaly combinations which exist in the earth's crust, we must look to the vegetable world. If, however, we could go so far back in the world's history as the period when our incandescent orb had only just severed connection with a gradually-diminishing sun, we should probably find the carbon there, but locked up in the bonds of chemical affinities with other elements, and existing therewith in a gaseous condition. But, as the solidifying process went on, and as the vegetable world afterwards made its appearance, the carbon became, so to speak, wrenched from its combinations, and being absorbed by trees and plants, finally became deposited amongst the ruins of a former vegetable world, and is now presented to us in the form of coal.
We are able to trace the gradual changes through which the pasty mass of decaying vegetation passed, in consequence of the fact that we have this material locked up in various stages of carbonisation, in the strata beneath our feet. These we propose to deal with individually, in as unscientific and untechnical a manner as possible.
First of all, when a mass of vegetable matter commences to decay, it soon loses its colour. There is no more noticeable proof of this, than that when vitality is withdrawn from the leaves of autumn, they at once commence to assume a rusty or an ashen colour. Let the leaves but fall to the ground, and be exposed to the early frosts of October, the damp mists and rains of November, and the rapid change of colour is at once apparent. Trodden under foot, they soon assume a dirty blackish hue, and even when removed they leave a carbonaceous trace of themselves behind them, where they had rested. Another proof of the rapid acquisition of their coaly hue is noticeable in the spring of the year. When the trees have burst forth and the buds are rapidly opening, the cases in which the buds of such trees as the horse-chestnut have been enclosed will be found cast off, and strewing the path beneath. Moistened by the rains and the damp night-mists, and trodden under foot, these cases assume a jet black hue, and are to all appearance like coal in the very first stages of formation.
But of course coal is not made up wholly and only of leaves. The branches of trees, twigs of all sizes, and sometimes whole trunks of trees are found, the last often remaining in their upright position, and piercing the strata which have been formed above them. At other times they lie horizontally on the bed of coal, having been thrown down previously to the formation of the shale or sandstone, which now rests upon them. They are often petrified into solid sandstone themselves, whilst leaving a rind of coal where formerly was the bark. Although the trunk of a tree looks so very different to the leaves which it bears upon its branches, it is only naturally to be supposed that, as they are both built up after the same manner from the juices of the earth and the nourishment in the atmosphere, they would have a similar chemical composition. One very palpable proof of the carbonaceous character of tree-trunks suggests itself. Take in your hand a few dead twigs or sticks from which the leaves have long since dropped; pull away the dead parts of the ivy which has been creeping over the summer-house; or clasp a gnarled old monster of the forest in your arms, and you will quickly find your hand covered with a black smut, which is nothing but the result of the first stage which the living plant has made, in its progress towards its condition as dead coal. But an easy, though rough, chemical proof of the constituents of wood, can be made by placing a few pieces of wood in a medium-sized test-tube, and holding it over a flame. In a short time a certain quantity of steam will be driven off, next the gaseous constituents of wood, and finally nothing will be left but a few pieces of black brittle charcoal. The process is of course the same in a fire-grate, only that here more complete combustion of the wood takes place, owing to its being intimately exposed to the action of the flames. If we adopt the same experiment with some pieces of coal, the action is similar, only that in this case the quantity of gases given off is not so great, coal containing a greater proportion of carbon than wood, owing to the fact that, during its long burial in the bowels of the earth, it has been acted upon in such a way as to lose a great part of its volatile constituents.
From processes, therefore, which are to be seen going on around us, it is easily possible to satisfy ourselves that vegetation will in the long run undergo such changes as will result in the formation of coal.
There are certain parts in most countries, and particularly in Ireland, where masses of vegetation have undergone a still further stage in metamorphism, namely, in the well-known and famous peat-bogs. Ireland is par excellence the land of bogs, some three millions of acres being said to be covered by them, and they yield an almost inexhaustible supply of peat. One of the peat-bogs near the Shannon is between two and three miles in breadth and no less than fifty in length, whilst its depth varies from 13 feet to as much as 47 feet. Peat-bogs have in no way ceased to be formed, for at their surfaces the peat-moss grows afresh every year; and rushes, horse-tails, and reeds of all descriptions grow and thrive each year upon the ruins of their ancestors. The formation of such accumulations of decaying vegetation would only be possible where the physical conditions of the country allowed of an abundant rainfall, and depressions in the surface of the land to retain the moisture. Where extensive deforesting operations have taken place, peat-bogs have often been formed, and many of those in existence in Europe undoubtedly owe their formation to that destruction of forests which went on under the sway of the Romans. Natural drainage would soon be obstructed by fallen trees, and the formation of marsh-land would follow; then with the growth of marsh-plants and their successive annual decay, a peaty mass would collect, which would quickly grow in thickness without let or hindrance.
In considering the existence of inland peat-bogs, we must not lose sight of the fact that there are subterranean forest-beds on various parts of our coasts, which also rest upon their own beds of peaty matter, and very possibly, when in the future they are covered up by marine deposits, they will have fairly started on their way towards becoming coal.
Peat-bogs do not wholly consist of peat, and nothing else. The trunks of such trees as the oak, yew, and fir, are often found mingled with the remains of mosses and reeds, and these often assume a decidedly coaly aspect. From the famous Bog of Allen in Ireland, pieces of oak, generally known as "bog-oak," which have been buried for generations in peat, have been excavated. These are as black as any coal can well be, and are sufficiently hard to allow of their being used in the manufacture of brooches and other ornamental objects. Another use to which peat of some kinds has been put is in the manufacture of yarn, the result being a material which is said to resemble brown worsted. On digging a ditch to drain a part of a bog in Maine, U.S., in which peat to a depth of twenty feet had accumulated, a substance similar to cannel coal itself was found. As we shall see presently, cannel coal is one of the earliest stages of true coal, and the discovery proved that under certain conditions as to heat and pressure, which in this case happened to be present, the materials which form peat may also be metamorphosed into true coal.
Darwin, in his well-known "Voyage in the Beagle" gives a peculiarly interesting description of the condition of the peat-beds in the Chonos Archipelago, off the Chilian coast, and of their mode of formation. "In these islands," he says, "cryptogamic plants find a most congenial climate, and within the forest the number of species and great abundance of mosses, lichens, and small ferns, is quite extraordinary. In Tierra del Fuego every level piece of land is invariably covered by a thick bed of peat. In the Chonos Archipelago where the nature of the climate more closely approaches that of Tierra del Fuego, every patch of level ground is covered by two species of plants (Astelia pumila and Donatia megellanica), which by their joint decay compose a thick bed of elastic peat.
"In Tierra del Fuego, above the region of wood-land, the former of these eminently sociable plants is the chief agent in the production of peat. Fresh leaves are always succeeding one to the other round the central tap-root; the lower ones soon decay, and in tracing a root downwards in the peat, the leaves, yet holding their places, can be observed passing through every stage of decomposition, till the whole becomes blended in one confused mass. The Astelia is assisted by a few other plants,—here and there a small creeping Myrtus (M. nummularia), with a woody stem like our cranberry and with a sweet berry,—an Empetrum (E. rubrum), like our heath,—a rush (Juncus grandiflorus), are nearly the only ones that grow on the swampy surface. These plants, though possessing a very close general resemblance to the English species of the same genera, are different. In the more level parts of the country the surface of the peat is broken up into little pools of water, which stand at different heights, and appear as if artificially excavated. Small streams of water, flowing underground, complete the disorganisation of the vegetable matter, and consolidate the whole.
"The climate of the southern part of America appears particularly favourable to the production of peat. In the Falkland Islands almost every kind of plant, even the coarse grass which covers the whole surface of the land, becomes converted into this substance: scarcely any situation checks its growth; some of the beds are as much as twelve feet thick, and the lower part becomes so solid when dry that it will hardly burn. Although every plant lends its aid, yet in most parts the Astelia is the most efficient.
"It is rather a singular circumstance, as being so very different from what occurs in Europe, that I nowhere saw moss forming by its decay any portion of the peat in South America. With respect to the northern limit at which the climate allows of that peculiar kind of slow decomposition which is necessary for its production, I believe that in Chiloe (lat. 41° to 42°), although there is much swampy ground, no well characterised peat occurs; but in the Chonos Islands, three degrees farther southward, we have seen that it is abundant. On the eastern coast in La Plata (lat. 35°) I was told by a Spanish resident, who had visited Ireland, that he had often sought for this substance, but had never been able to find any. He showed me, as the nearest approach to it which he had discovered, a black peaty soil, so penetrated with roots as to allow of an extremely slow and imperfect combustion."
The next stage in the making of coal is one in which the change has proceeded a long way from the starting-point. Lignite is the name which has been applied to a form of impure coal, which sometimes goes under the name of "brown coal." It is not a true coal, and is a very long way from that final stage to which it must attain ere it takes rank with the most valuable of earth's products. From the very commencement, an action has being going on which has caused the amount of the gaseous constituents to become less and less, and which has consequently caused the carbon remaining behind to occupy an increasingly large proportion of the whole mass. So, when we arrive at the lignite stage, we find that a considerable quantity of volatile matter has already been parted with, and that the carbon, which in ordinary living wood is about 50 per cent. of the whole, has already increased to about 67 per cent. In most lignites there is, as a rule, a comparatively large proportion of sulphur, and in such cases it is rendered useless as a domestic fuel. It has been used as a fuel in various processes of manufacture, and the lignite of the well-known Bovey Tracey beds has been utilised in this way at the neighbouring potteries. As compared with true coal, it is distinguished by the abundance of smoke which it produces and the choking sulphurous fumes which also accompany its combustion, but it is largely used in Germany as a useful source of paraffin and illuminating oils. In Silesia, Saxony, and in the district about Bonn, large quantities of lignite are mined, and used as fuel. Large stores of lignite are known to exist in the Weald of the south-east of England, and although the mining operations which were carried on at one time at Heathfield, Bexhill, and other places, were failures so far as the actual discovery of true coal was concerned, yet there can be no doubt as to the future value of the lignite in these parts, when England's supplies of coal approach exhaustion, and attention is turned to other directions for the future source of her gas and paraffin oils.
Beside the Bovey Tracey lignitic beds to which we have above referred, other tertiary clays are found to contain this early promise of coal. The eocene beds of Brighton are an important instance of a tertiary lignite, the seam of surturbrand, as it is locally called, being a somewhat extensive deposit.
We have now closely approached to true coal, and the next step which we shall take will be to consider the varieties in which the black mineral itself is found. The principal of these varieties are as follows, against each being placed the average proportion of pure carbon which it contains:—
Splint or Hard Coal, 83 per cent.;
Cannel, Candle or Parrott Coal, 84 per cent.;
Cherry or Soft Coal, 85 per cent.;
Common Bituminous, or Caking Coal, 88 per cent.;
Anthracite, Blind Coal, Culm, Glance, or Stone Coal, from South
Wales, 93 per cent.
As far as the gas-making properties of the first three are concerned, the relative proportions of carbon and volatile products are much the same. Everybody knows a piece of cannel coal when it is seen, how it appears almost to have been once in a molten condition, and how it breaks with a conchoidal fracture, as opposed to the cleavage of bituminous coal into thin layers; and, most apparent and most noticeable of all, how it does not soil the hands after the manner of ordinary coal. It is at times so dense and compact that it has been fashioned into ornaments, and is capable of receiving a polish like jet. From the large percentage of volatile products which it contains, it is greatly used in gasworks.
Caking coal and the varieties of coal which exist between it and anthracite, are familiar to every householder; the more it approaches the composition of the latter the more difficult it is to get it to burn, but when at last fairly alight it gives out great heat, and what is more important, a less quantity of volatile constituents in the shape of gas, smoke, ammonia, ash and sulphurous acid. For this reason it has been proposed to compel consumers to adopt anthracite as the domestic coal by Act of Parliament. Certainly by this means the amount of impurities in the air might be appreciably lessened, but as it would involve the reconstruction of some millions of fire-places, and an increase in price in consequence of the general demand for it, it is not likely that a government would be so rash as to attempt to pass such a measure; even if passed, it would probably soon become as dead and obsolete and impotent as those many laws with which our ancestors attempted, first to arrest, and then to curb the growth in the use of coal of any sort. Anthracite is not a "homely" coal. If we use it alone it will not give us that bright and cheerful blaze which English-speaking people like to obtain from their fires.
It is a significant fact, and one which proves that the various kinds of coal which are found are nothing but stages begotten by different degrees of disentanglement of the contained gases, that where, as in some parts, a mass of basalt has come into contact with ordinary bituminous coal, the coal has assumed the character of anthracite, whilst the change has in some instances gone so far as to convert the anthracite into graphite. The basalt, which is one of the igneous rocks, has been erupted into the coal-seam in a state of fusion, and the heat contained in it has been sufficient to cause the disentanglement of the gases, the extraction of which from the coal brings about the condition of anthracite and graphite.
The mention of graphite brings us to the next stage. Graphite, plumbago, or, as it is more commonly called, black-lead, which, we may say in passing, has nothing of lead about it at all, is best known in the shape of that very useful and cosmopolitan article, the black-lead pencil. This is even purer carbon than anthracite, not more than 5 per cent. of ash and other impurities being present. It is well-known by its grey metallic lustre; the chemist uses it mixed with fire-clay to make his crucibles; the engineer uses it, finely powdered, to lubricate his machinery; the house-keeper uses it to "black-lead" her stoves to prevent them from rusting. An imperfect graphite is found inside some of the hottest retorts from which gas is distilled, and this is used as the negative element in zinc and carbon electricity-making cells, whilst its use as the electrodes or carbons of the arc-lamp is becoming more and more widely adopted, as installations of electric light become more general.
One great source of true graphite for many years was the famous mine at Borrowdale, in Cumberland, but this is now almost exhausted. The vein lay between strata of slate, and was from eight to nine feet thick. As much as £100,000 is said to have been realised from it in one year. Extensive supplies of graphite are found in rocks of the Laurentian age in Canada. In this formation nothing which can undoubtedly be classed as organic has yet been discovered. Life at this early period must have found its home in low and humble forms, and if the eozoön of Dawson, which has been thought to represent the earliest type of life, turns out after all not to be organic, but only a deceptive appearance assumed by certain of the strata, we at least know that it must have been in similarly humble forms that life, if it existed at all, did then exist. We can scarcely, therefore, expect that the vegetable world had made any great advance in complexity of organism at this time, otherwise the supplies of graphite or plumbago which are found in the formation, would be attributed to dense forest growths, acted upon, after death, in a similar manner to that which awaited the vegetation which, ages after, went to form beds of coal. At present we know of no source of carbon except through the intervention and the chemical action of plants. Like iron, carbon is seldom found on the earth except in combination. If there were no growth of vegetation at this far-away period to give rise to these deposits of graphite, we are compelled to ask ourselves whether, perchance, there did not then exist conditions of which we are not now cognisant on the earth, and which allowed graphite to be formed without assistance from the vegetable kingdom. At present, however, science is in the dark as to any other process of its formation, and we are left to assume that the vegetable growth of the time was enormous in quantity, although there is nothing to show the kind of vegetation, whether humble mosses or tall forest trees, which went to constitute the masses of graphite. Geologists will agree that this is no small assumption to make, since, if true, it may show that there was an abundance of vegetation at a time when animal life was hidden in one or more very obscure forms, one only of which has so far been detected, and whose very identity is strongly doubted by nearly all competent judges. At the same time there may have been an abundance of both animal and vegetable life at the time. We must not forget that it is a well-ascertained fact that in later ages, the minute seed-spores of forest trees were in such abundance as to form important seams of coal in the true carboniferous era, the trees which gave birth to them being now classed amongst the humble cryptogams, the ferns, and club-mosses, &c. The graphite of Laurentian age may not improbably have been caused by deposits of minute portions of similar lowly specimens of vegetable life, and if the eozoön the "dawn-animalcule," does represent the animal life of the time, life whose types were too minute to leave undoubted traces of their existence, both animal life and vegetable life may be looked upon as existing side by side in extremely humble forms, neither as yet having taken an undoubted step forward in advance of the other in respect to complexity of organism.
[Illustration: FIG 30.—Lepidodendron. Portion of Sandstone stem after removal of bark of a giant club-moss]
There is but one more form of carbon with which we have to deal in running through the series. We have seen that coal is not the summum bonum of the series. Other transformations take place after the stage of coal is reached, which, by the continued disentanglement of gases, finally bring about the plumbago stage.
What the action is which transforms plumbago or some other form of carbon into the condition of a diamond cannot be stated. Diamond is the purest form of carbon found in nature. It is a beautiful object, alike from the results of its powers of refraction, as also from the form into which its carbon has been crystallised. How Nature, in her wonderful laboratory, has precipitated the diamond, with its wonderful powers of spectrum analysis, we cannot say with certainty. Certain chemists have, at a great expense, produced crystals which, in every respect, stand the tests of true diamonds; but the process of their production at a great expense has in no way diminished the value of the natural product.
The process by which artificial diamonds have been produced is so interesting, and the subject may prove to be of so great importance, that a few remarks upon the process may not be unacceptable.
The experiments of the great French chemist, Dumas, and others, satisfactorily proved the fact, which has ever since been considered thoroughly established, that the diamond is nothing but carbon crystallised in nearly a pure state, and many chemists have since been engaged in the hitherto futile endeavour to turn ordinary carbon into the true diamond.
Despretz at one time considered that he had discovered the process, which consisted in his case of submitting a piece of charcoal to the action of an electric battery, having in his mind the similar process of electrolysis, by which water is divided up into the two gases, hydrogen and oxygen. He obtained a microscopic deposit on the poles of the battery, which he pronounced to be diamond dust, but which, a long time after, was proved to be nothing but graphite in a crystallised state. This was, however, certainly a step in the right direction.
The honour of first accomplishing the task fell to Mr Hannay, of Glasgow, who succeeded in producing very small but comparatively soft diamonds, by heating lampblack under great pressure, in company with one or two other ingredients. The process was a costly one, and beyond being a great scientific feat, the discovery led to little result.
A young French chemist, M. Henri Moissau, has since come to the front, and the diamonds which he has produced have stood every test for the true diamond to which they could be subjected; above all, the density of the product is 3.5, i.e., that of the diamond, that of graphite reaching 2 only.
He recognised that in all diamonds which he had consumed—and he consumed some £150 worth in order to assure himself of the fact—there were always traces of iron in their composition. He saw that iron in fusion, like other metals, always dissolves a certain quantity of carbon. Might it not be that molten iron, cooling in the presence of carbon, deep in volcanic depths where there was little scope for the iron to expand in assuming the solid form, would exert such tremendous pressure upon the particles of carbon which it absorbed, that these would assume the crystalline state?
He packed a cylinder of soft iron with the carbon of sugar, and placed the whole in a crucible filled with molten iron, which was raised to a temperature of 3000° by means of an electric furnace. The soft cylinder melted, and dissolved a large portion of the carbon. The crucible was thrown into water, and a mass of solid iron was formed. It was allowed further to cool in the open air, but the expansion which the iron would have undergone on cooling, was checked by the crucible which contained it. The result was a tremendous pressure, during which the carbon, which was still dissolved, was crystallised into minute diamonds.
These showed themselves as minute points which were easily separable from the mass by the action of acids. Thus the wonderful transformation from sugar to the diamond was accomplished.
It should be mentioned that iron, silver, and water, alone possess the peculiar property of expanding when passing from the liquid to the solid state.
The diamonds so obtained were of both kinds. The particles of white diamond resembled in every respect the true brilliant. But there was also an appreciable quantity of the variety known as the "black diamond." These diamonds seem to approximate more closely to carbon as we are most familiar with it. They are not considered as of such value as the transparent form, but they are still of considerable commercial value. The carbonado, as this kind is called, possesses so great a degree of hardness that by means of it it is possible to bore through the hardest rocks. The diamond drill, used for boring purposes, is furnished around the outer edge of the cylinder of the "boring bit," as it is called, with perhaps a dozen black diamonds, together with another row of Brazilian diamonds on the inside. By the rotation of the boring tool the sharp edges of the diamonds cut their way through rocks of all degrees of hardness, leaving a core of the rock cut through, in the centre of the cylindrical drill. It is found that the durability of the natural edge of the diamond is far greater than that of the edge caused by artificial cutting and trimming. The cutting of a pane of glass by means of a ring set with an artificially-cut diamond, cannot therefore be done without injuring to a slight extent the edge of the stone.
The diamond is the hardest of all known substances, leaving a scratch on any substance across which it may be drawn. Yet it is one whose form can be changed, and whose hardness can be completely destroyed, by the simple process of combustion. It can be deprived of its high lustre, and of its power of breaking up by refraction the light of the sun into the various tints of the solar spectrum, simply by heating it to a red heat, and then plunging it into a jar of oxygen gas. It immediately expands, changes into a coky mass, and burns away. The product left behind is a mixture of carbon and oxygen, in the proportions in which it is met with in carbonic-anhydride, or, carbonic acid gas deprived of its water. This is indeed a strange transformation, from the most valuable of all our precious stones to a compound which is the same in chemical constituents as the poisonous gas which we and all animals exhale. But there is this to be said. Probably in the far-away days when the diamond began to be formed, the tree or other vegetable product which was its far-removed ancestor abstracted carbonic acid gas from the atmosphere, just as do our plants in the present day. By this means it obtained the carbon wherewith to build up its tissues. Thus the combustion of the diamond into carbonic-anhydride now is, after all, only a return to the same compound out of which it was originally formed. How it was formed is a secret: probably the time occupied in the formation of the diamond may be counted by centuries, but the time of its re-transformation into a mass of coky matter is but the work of seconds!
There is another form of carbon which was formerly of much greater importance than it is now, and which, although not a natural product, is yet deserving of some notice here. Charcoal is the substance referred to.
In early days the word "coal," or, as it was also spelt, "cole," was applied to any substance which was used as fuel; hence we have a reference in the Bible to a "fire of coals," so translated when the meaning to be conveyed was probably not coal as we know it. Wood was formerly known as coal, whilst charred wood received the name of charred-coal, which was soon corrupted into charcoal. The charcoal-burners of years gone by were a far more flourishing community than they are now. When the old baronial halls and country-seats depended on them for the basis of their fuel, and the log was a more frequent occupant of the fire-grate than now, these occupiers of midforest were a people of some importance.
We must not overlook the fact that there is another form of charcoal, namely, animal charcoal or bone-black. This can be obtained by heating bones to redness in closed iron vessels. In the refining of raw sugar the discoloration of the syrup is brought about by filtering it through animal-charcoal; by this means the syrup is rendered colourless.
When properly prepared, charcoal exhibits very distinctly the rings of annual growth which may have characterised the wood from which it was formed. It is very light in consequence of its porous nature, and it is wonderfully indestructible.
But its greatest, because it is its most useful property, is undoubtedly the power which it has of absorbing great quantities of gas into itself. It is in fact what may be termed an all-round purifier. It is a deodoriser, a disinfectant, and a decoloriser. It is an absorbent of bad odours, and partially removes the smell from tainted meat. It has been used when offensive manures have been spread over soils, with the same object in view, and its use for the purification of water is well known to all users of filters. Some idea of its power as a disinfectant may be gained by the fact that one volume of wood-charcoal will absorb no less than 90 volumes of ammonia, 35 volumes of carbonic anhydride, and 65 volumes of sulphurous anhydride.
Other forms of carbon which are well-known are (1) coke, the residue left when coal has been subjected to a great heat in a closed retort, but from which all the bye-products of coal have been allowed to escape; (2) soot and lamp-black, the former of which is useful as a manure in consequence of ammonia being present in it, whilst the latter is a specially prepared soot, and is used in the manufacture of Indian ink and printers' ink.
CHAPTER IV.
THE COAL-MINE AND ITS DANGERS.
It is somewhat strange to think that where once existed the solitudes of an ancient carboniferous forest now is the site of a busy underground town. For a town it really is. The various roads and passages which are cut through the solid coal as excavation of a coal-mine proceeds, represent to a stranger all the intricacies of a well-planned town. Nor is the extent of these underground towns a thing to be despised. There is an old pit near Newcastle which contains not less than fifty miles of passages. Other pits there are whose main thoroughfares in a direct line are not less than four or five miles in length, and this, it must be borne in mind, is the result of excavation wrought by human hands and human labour.
So great an extent of passages necessarily requires some special means of keeping the air within it in a pure state, such as will render it fit for the workers to breathe. The further one would go from the main thoroughfare in such a mine, the less likely one would be to find air of sufficient purity for the purpose. It is as a consequence necessary to take some special steps to provide an efficient system of ventilation throughout the mine. This is effectually done by two shafts, called respectively the downcast and the upcast shaft. A shaft is in reality a very deep well, and may be circular, rectangular or oval in form. In order to keep out water which may be struck in passing through the various strata, it is protected by plank or wood tubbing, or the shaft is bricked over, or sometimes even cast-iron segments are sunk. In many shafts which, owing to their great depth, pass through strata of every degree of looseness or viscosity, all three methods are utilised in turn. In Westphalia, where coal is worked beneath strata of more recent geological age, narrow shafts have been, in many cases, sunk by means of boring apparatus, in preference to the usual process of excavation, and the practice has since been adopted in South Wales. In England the usual form of the pit is circular, but elliptical and rectangular pits are also in use. On the Continent polygonal-shaped shafts are not uncommon, all of them, of whatever shape, being constructed with a view to resist the great pressure exerted by the rock around.
[Illustration: FIG. 31.—Engine-House and Buildings at head of a
Coal-Pit.]
If there be one of these shafts at one end of the mine, and another at a remote distance from it, a movement of the air will at once begin, and a rough kind of ventilation will ensue. This is, however, quite insufficient to provide the necessary quantity of air for inhalation by the army of workers in the coal-mine, for the current thus set up does not even provide sufficient force to remove the effete air and impurities which accumulate from hundreds of perspiring human bodies.
It is therefore necessary to introduce some artificial means, by which a strong and regular current shall pass down one shaft, through the mine in all its workings, and out at the other shaft. This is accomplished in various ways. It took many years before those interested in mines came thoroughly to understand how properly to secure ventilation, and in bygone days the system was so thoroughly bad that a tremendous amount of sickness prevailed amongst the miners, owing to the poisonous effects of breathing the same air over and over again, charged, as it was, with more or less of the gases given off by the coal itself. Now, those miners who do so great a part in furnishing the means of warming our houses in winter, have the best contrivances which can be devised to furnish them with an ever-flowing current of fresh air.
Amongst the various mechanical appliances which have been used to ensure ventilation may be mentioned pumps, fans, and pneumatic screws. There is, as we have said, a certain, though slight, movement of the air in the two columns which constitute the upcast and the downcast shafts, but in order that a current may flow which shall be equal to the necessities of the miners, some means are necessary, by which this condition of almost equilibrium shall be considerably disturbed, and a current created which shall sweep all foul gases before it. One plan was to force fresh air into the downcast, which should in a sense push the foetid air away by the upcast. Another was to exhaust the upcast, and so draw the gases in the train of the exhausted air. In other cases the plan was adopted of providing a continual falling of water down the downcast shaft.
These various plans have almost all given way to that which is the most serviceable of all, namely, the plan of having an immense furnace constantly burning in a specially-constructed chamber at the bottom of the upcast. By this means the column of air above it becomes rarefied under the heat, and ascends, whilst the cooler air from the downcast rushes in and spreads itself in all directions whence the bad air has already been drawn. On the other hand, to so great a state of perfection have ventilating fans been brought, that one was recently erected which would be capable of changing the air of Westminster Hall thirty times in one hour.
Having procured a current of sufficient power, it will be at once understood that, if left to its own will, it would take the nearest path which might lie between its entrance and its exit, and, in this way, ventilating the principal street only, would leave all the many off-shoots from it undisturbed. It is consequently manipulated by means of barriers and tight-fitting doors, in such a way that the current is bound in turn to traverse every portion of the mine. A large number of boys, known as trappers, are employed in opening the doors to all comers, and in carefully closing the doors immediately after they have passed, in order that the current may not circulate through passages along which it is not intended that it should pass.
The greatest dangers which await the miners are those which result, in the form of terrible explosions, from the presence of inflammable gases in the mines. The great walls of coal which bound the passages in mines are constantly exuding supplies of gas into the air. When a bank of coal is brought down by an artificial explosion, by dynamite, by lime cartridges, or by some other agency, large quantities of gas are sometimes disengaged, and not only is this highly detrimental to the health of the miners, if not carried away by proper ventilation, but it constitutes a constant danger which may at any time cause an explosion when a naked light is brought into contact with it. Fire-damp may be sometimes heard issuing from fiery seams with a peculiar hissing sound. If the volume be great, the gas forms what is called a blower, and this often happens in the neighbourhood of a fault. When coal is brought down in any large volume, the blowers which commence may be exhausted in a few moments. Others, however, have been known to last for years, this being the case at Wallsend, where the blower gave off 120 feet of gas per minute. In such cases the gas is usually conveyed in pipes to a place where it can be burned in safety.
In the early days of coal-mining the explosions caused by this gas soon received the serious attention of the scientific men of the age. In the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society we find a record of a gas explosion in 1677. The amusing part of such records was that the explosions were ascribed by the miners to supernatural agencies. Little attention seemed to have been paid to the fact, which has since so thoroughly been established, that the explosions were caused by accumulations of gas, mixed in certain proportions with air. As a consequence, tallow candles with an exposed flame were freely used, especially in Britain. These were placed in niches in the workings, where they would give to the pitman the greatest amount of light. Previous to the introduction of the safety-lamp, workings were tested before the men entered them, by "trying the candle". Owing to the specific gravity of fire-damp (.555) being less than that of air, it always finds a lodgement at the roofs of the workings, so that, to test the condition of the air, it was necessary to steadily raise the candle to the roof at certain places in the passages, and watch carefully the action of the flame. The presence of fire-damp would be shown by the flame assuming a blue colour, and by its elongation; the presence of other gases could be detected by an experienced man by certain peculiarities in the tint of the flame. This testing with the open flame has almost entirely ceased since the introduction of the perfected Davy lamp.
The use of candles for illumination soon gave place in most of the large collieries to the introduction of small oil-lamps. In the less fiery mines on the Continent, oil-lamps of the well-known Etruscan pattern are still in use, whilst small metal lamps, which can conveniently be attached to the cap of the worker, occasionally find favour in the shallower Scotch mines. These lamps are very useful in getting the coal from the thinner seams, where progress has to be made on the hands and feet. At the close of the last century, as workings began to be carried deeper, and coal was obtained from places more and more infested with fire-damp, it soon came to be realised that the old methods of illumination would have to be replaced by others of a safer nature.
It is noteworthy that mere red heat is insufficient in itself to ignite fire-damp, actual contact with flame being necessary for this purpose. Bearing this in mind, Spedding, the discoverer of the fact, invented what is known as the "steel-mill" for illuminating purposes. In this a toothed wheel was made to play upon a piece of steel, the sparks thus caused being sufficient to give a moderate amount of illumination. It was found, however, that this method was not always trustworthy, and lamps were introduced by Humboldt in 1796, and by Clanny in 1806. In these lamps the air which fed the flame was isolated from the air of the mine by having to bubble through a liquid. Many miners were not, however, provided with these lamps, and the risks attending naked lights went on as merrily as ever.
In order to avoid explosions in mines which were known to give off large quantities of gas, "fiery" pits as they are called, Sir Humphrey Davy in 1815 invented his safety lamp, the principle of which can be stated in a few words.
If a piece of fine wire gauze be held over a gas-jet before it is lit, and the gas be then turned on, it can be lit above the gauze, but the flame will not pass downwards towards the source of the gas; at least, not until the gauze has become over-heated. The metallic gauze so rapidly conducts away the heat, that the temperature of the gas beneath the gauze is unable to arrive at the point of ignition. In the safety-lamp the little oil-lamp is placed in a circular funnel of fine gauze, which prevents the flame from passing through it to any explosive gas that may be floating about outside, but at the same time allows the rays of light to pass through readily. Sir Humphrey Davy, in introducing his lamp, cautioned the miners against exposing it to a rapid current of air, which would operate in such a way as to force the flame through the gauze, and also against allowing the gauze to become red-hot. In order to minimise, as far as possible, the necessity of such caution the lamp has been considerably modified since first invented, the speed of the ventilating currents not now allowing of the use of the simple Davy lamp, but the principle is the same.
During the progress of Sir Humphrey Davy's experiments, he found that when fire-damp was diluted with 85 per cent. of air, and any less proportion, it simply ignited without explosion. With between 85 per cent. and 89 per cent. of air, fire-damp assumed its most explosive form, but afterwards decreased in explosiveness, until with 94-1/4 per cent. of air it again simply ignited without explosion. With between 11 and 12 per cent. of fire-damp the mixture was most dangerous. Pure fire-damp itself, therefore, is not dangerous, so that when a small quantity enters the gauze which surrounds the Davy lamp, it simply burns with its characteristic blue flame, but at the same time gives the miner due notice of the danger which he was running.
[Illustration: FIG. 32.—Gas Jet and Davy Lamp.]
With the complicated improvements which have since been made in the Davy lamp, a state of almost absolute safety can be guaranteed, but still from time to time explosions are reported. Of the cause of many we are absolutely ignorant, but occasionally a light is thrown upon their origin by a paragraph appearing in a daily paper. Two men are charged before the magistrates with being in the possession of keys used exclusively for unlocking their miners' safety-lamps. There is no defence. These men know that they carry their lives in their hands, yet will risk their own and those of hundreds of others, in order that they may be able to light their pipes by means of their safety-lamps. Sometimes in an unexpected moment there is a great dislodgement of coal, and a tremendous quantity of gas is set free, which may be sufficient to foul the passages for some distance around. The introduction or exposure of a naked light for even so much as a second is sufficient to cause explosion of the mass; doors are blown down, props and tubbing are charred up, and the volume of smoke, rushing up by the nearest shaft and overthrowing the engine-house and other structures at the mouth, conveys its own sad message to those at the surface, of the dreadful catastrophe that has happened below. Perhaps all that remains of some of the workers consists of charred and scorched bodies, scarcely recognisable as human beings. Others escape with scorched arms or legs, and singed hair, to tell the terrible tale to those who were more fortunately absent; to speak of their own sufferings when, after having escaped the worst effects of the explosion, they encountered the asphyxiating rush of the after-damp or choke-damp, which had been caused by the combustion of the fire-damp. "Choke-damp" in very truth it is, for it is principally composed of our old acquaintance carbonic acid gas (carbon dioxide), which is well known as a non-supporter of combustion and as an asphyxiator of animal life.
It seems a terrible thing that on occasions the workings and walls themselves of a coal-mine catch fire and burn incessantly. Yet such is the case. Years ago this happened in the case of an old colliery near Dudley, at the surface of which, by means of the heat and steam thus afforded, early potatoes for the London market, we are told, were grown; and it was no unusual thing to see the smoke emerging from cracks and crevices in the rocks in the vicinity of the town.
From fire on the one hand, we pass, on the other, to the danger which awaits miners from a sudden inrush of water. During the great coal strike of 1893, certain mines became unworkable in consequence of the quantity of water which flooded the mines, and which, continually passing along the natural fractures in the earth's crust, is always ready to find a storage reservoir in the workings of a coal-mine. This is a difficulty which is always experienced in the sinking of shafts, and the shutting off of water engages the best efforts of mining engineers.
Added to these various dangers which exist in the coal-mine, we must not omit to notice those accidents that are continually being caused by the falling-in of roofs or of walls, from the falling of insecure timber, or of what are known as "coal-pipes" or "bell-moulds." Then, again, every man that enters the mine trusts his life to the cage by which he descends to his labour, and shaft accidents are not infrequent.
The following table shows the number of deaths from colliery accidents for a period of ten years, compiled by a Government inspector, and from this it will be seen that those resulting from falling roofs number considerably more than one-third of the whole.
—————————————————————————————————- | Causes of Death. | No. of | Proportion | | | Deaths. | per cent. | —————————————————————————————————- | Deaths resulting from fire-damp | | | | explosions | 2019 | 20.36 | | | | | | Deaths resulting from falling | | | | roofs and coals | 3953 | 39.87 | | | | | | Deaths resulting from shaft | | | | accidents | 1710 | 17.24 | | | | | | Deaths resulting from miscellaneous | | | | causes and above ground | 2234 | 22.53 | | |——————|——————| | | 9916 | 100.00 | —————————————————————————————————|
Every reader of the daily papers is familiar with the harrowing accounts which are there given of coal-mine explosions.
This kind of accident is one, which is, above all, associated in the public mind with the dangers of the coal-pit. Yet the accidents arising from this cause number but 20 per cent. of those recorded, and granted there be proper inspection, and the use of naked lights be absolutely abolished, this low percentage might still be considerably reduced.
A terrific explosion occurred at Whitwick Colliery, Leicestershire, in 1893, when two lads were killed, whilst a third was rescued after a very narrow escape. The lads, it is stated, were working with naked lights, when a sudden fall of coal released a quantity of gas, and an immediate explosion was the natural result. Accidents had been so rare at this pit that it was regarded as particularly safe, and it was alleged that the use of naked lights was not uncommon.
This is an instance of that large number of accidents which are undoubtedly preventable.
An interesting commentary on the careless manner in which miners risk their lives was shown in the discoveries made after an explosion at a colliery near Wrexham in 1889. Near the scene of the explosion an unsecured safety lamp was found, and the general opinion at the time was that the disaster was caused by the inexcusable carelessness of one of the twenty victims. Besides this, when the clothing of the bodies recovered was searched, the contents, taken, it should be noted, with the pitmen into the mines, consisted of pipes, tobacco, matches, and even keys for unlocking the lamps. It is a strange reflection on the manner in which this mine had been examined previous to the men entering upon their work, that the under-looker, but half an hour previously, had reported the pit to be free from gas.
Another instance of the same foolhardiness on the part of the miners is contained in the report issued in regard to an explosion which occurred at Denny, in Stirlingshire, on April 26th, 1895. By this accident thirteen men lost their lives, and upon the bodies of eight of the number the following articles were found; upon Patrick Carr, tin matchbox half full of matches and a contrivance for opening lamps; John Comrie, split nail for opening lamps; Peter Conway, seven matches and split key for opening lamps; Patrick Dunton, split nail for opening lamps; John Herron, clay pipe and piece of tobacco; Henry M'Govern, tin matchbox half full of matches; Robert Mitchell, clay pipe and piece of tobacco; John Nicol, wooden pipe, piece of tobacco, one match, and box half full of matches. The report stated that the immediate cause of the disaster was the ignition of fire-damp by naked light, the conditions of temperature being such as to exclude the possibility of spontaneous combustion. Henry M'Govern had previously been convicted of having a pipe in the mine. With regard to the question of sufficient ventilation it continued:—"And we are therefore led, on a consideration of the whole evidence, to the conclusion that the accident cannot be attributed to the absence of ventilation, which the mine owners were bound under the Mines Regulation Act and the special rules to provide." The report concluded as follows:— "On the whole matter we have to report that, in our opinion, the explosion at Quarter Pit on April 26th, 1895, resulting in the loss of thirteen lives, was caused by the ignition of an accumulation or an outburst of gas coming in contact with a naked light, 'other than an open safety-lamp,' which had been unlawfully kindled by one of the miners who were killed. In our opinion, the intensity of the explosion was aggravated, and its area extended, by the ignition of coal-dust."
We have mentioned that accidents have frequently occurred from the falling of "coal-pipes," or, as they are also called, "bell-moulds." We must explain what is meant by this term. They are simply what appear to be solid trunks of trees metamorphosed into coal. If we go into a tropical forest we find that the woody fibre of dead trees almost invariably decays faster than the bark. The result is that what may appear to be a sound tree is nothing but an empty cylinder of bark. This appears to have been the case with many of the trees in coal-mines, where they are seen to pierce the strata, and around which the miners are excavating the coal. As the coaly mass collected around the trunk when the coal was being formed, the interior was undergoing a process of decomposition, while the bark assumed the form of coal. The hollow interior then became filled with the shale or sandstone which forms the roof of the coal, and its sole support when the coal is removed from around it, is the thin rind of carbonised bark. When this falls to pieces, or loses its cohesion, the sandstone trunk falls of its own weight, often causing the death of the man that works beneath it. Sir Charles Lyell mentions that in a colliery near Newcastle, no less than thirty sigillaria trees were standing in their natural position in an area of fifty yards square, the interior in each case being sandstone, which was surrounded by a bark of friable coal.
[Illustration: Fig. 33—Part of a trunk of Sigillaria, showing the thin outer carbonised bark, with leaf-scars, and the seal-like impressions where the bark is removed.]
The last great danger to which we have here to make reference, is the explosive action of a quantity of coal-dust in a dry condition. It is only now commencing to be fully recognised that this is really a most dangerous explosive. As we have seen, large quantities of coal are formed almost exclusively of lepidodendron spores, and such coal is productive of a great quantity of dust. Explosions which are always more or less attributable to the effects of coal-dust are generally considered, in the official statistics, to have been caused by fire-damp. The Act regulating mines in Great Britain is scarcely up to date in this respect. There is a regulation which provides for the watering of all dry and dusty places within twenty yards from the spot where a shot is fired, but the enforcement of this regulation in each and every pit necessarily devolves on the managers, many of whom in the absence of an inspector leave the requirement a dead letter. Every improvement which results in the better ventilation of a coal-mine tends to leave the dust in a more dangerous condition. The air, as it descends the shaft and permeates the workings, becomes more and more heated, and licks up every particle of moisture it can touch. Thorough ventilation results in more greatly freeing a mine of the dangerous fire-damp, but the remedy brings about another disease, viz., the drying-up of all moisture. The dust is thus left in a dangerously inflammable condition, acting like a train of gunpowder, to be started, it may be, by the slightest breath of an explosion. There is apparently little doubt that the presence of coal-dust in a dry state in a mine appreciably increases the liability of explosion in that mine.
So far as Great Britain is concerned, a Royal Commission was appointed by Lord Rosebery's Government to inquire into and investigate the facts referring to coal-dust. Generally speaking, the conclusion arrived at was that fine coal-dust was inflammable under certain conditions. There was considerable difference of opinion as to what these conditions were. Some were of opinion that coal-dust and air alone were of an explosive nature, whilst others thought that alone they were not, but that the addition of a small quantity of fire-damp rendered the mixture explosive. An important conclusion was come to, that, with the combustion of coal-dust alone, there was little or no concussion, and that the flame was not of an explosive character.
Coal-dust was, however, admittedly dangerous, especially if in a dry condition. The effects of an explosion of gas might be considerably extended by its presence, and there seems every reason to believe that, with a suitable admixture of air and a very small proportion of gas, it forms a dangerous explosive. Legislation in the direction of the report of the Commission is urgently needed.
We have seen elsewhere what it is in the dust which makes it dangerous, how that, for the most part, it consists of the dust-like spores of the lepidodendron tree, fine and impalpable as the spores on the backs of some of our living ferns, and the fact that this consists of a large proportion of resin makes it the easily inflammable substance it is. Nothing but an incessant watering of the workings in such cases will render the dust innocuous. The dust is extremely fine, and is easily carried into every nook and crevice, and when, as at Bridgend in 1892, it explodes, it is driven up and out of the shaft, enveloping everything temporarily in dust and darkness.
In some of the pits in South Wales a system of fine sprays of water is in use, by which the water is ejected from pin-holes pricked in a series of pipes which are carried through the workings. A fine mist is thus caused where necessary, which is carried forward by the force of the ventilating current.
A thorough system of inspection in coal-mines throughout the world is undoubtedly urgently called for, in order to ensure the proper carrying out of the various regulations framed for their safety. It is extremely unfortunate that so many of the accidents which happen are preventable, if only men of knowledge and of scientific attainments filled the responsible positions of the overlookers.