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A Piece of Chalk
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A PIECE OF CHALK
[284]
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O-DAY, my young friends, we shall have no thundering
artillery, no furious outbursts of flame, no
ear-splitting concert on pipes of glass and pasteboard,
no boisterous festival to celebrate the birth of a drop
of water. But the lesson will be none the less
important because it is quiet. We are going to
inquire what becomes of coal, or carbon, when it burns.
We have seen how brilliantly it burns in oxygen, and we
shall not soon forget that magnificent display. In the
process of burning, an invisible gas is produced, a gas
we called carbonic acid, knowing it to be an acid
because, like other acids, it reddens, even though but
slightly, the blue of litmus. This gas, known to us so
far only by name, merits closer study. First of all I
will show you how to recognize it, whatever may be its
origin.
"Here is a piece of lime. I sprinkle water on it to
slake it, as the masons say, and it turns hot and
steaming and crumbles to powder. I add more water,
much more, so as to make a thin paste. You have not
forgotten that lime is slightly soluble in water, and
it is a solution of that sort I desire, one that is
perfectly clear and without a trace of undissolved
lime. This I obtain by straining the paste through a
paper filter placed in the mouth of a
[285] funnel. You know that when we wish to separate fine
grains from coarse in a mixture of the two, we use a
sieve that allows the former to go through while it
retains the latter. Well, the filter-paper is also a
kind of sieve, all perforated with invisible pores that
give egress to matter reduced to exceedingly fine
particles by the act of dissolving, and bar the way to
what is not dissolved. Druggists and grocers sell this
filter-paper, which is much used in straining turbid
wine and vinegar, or any other liquid that is to be
freed of its dregs. It comes in rounds, larger or
smaller as may be desired. By folding it over once we
get a semicircle, by folding it a second time we get a
quarter circle, another fold gives an eighth of a
circle, and so on until it can no longer be easily
folded. Then, by partly spreading out our folded disk,
we obtain a sort of crinkled funnel, which we place in
a chemist's glass funnel as a support, if such a funnel
is at hand; otherwise a common tin funnel will do. A
bottle for holding the filtered liquid receives the
tube of the funnel.
"My filter is ready, and through it I strain the lime
paste. Notice how thick and muddy the liquid is above
the filter, and how clear and limpid below. What has
gone through into the bottle looks like the very purest
of water. Is not this round of paper a wonderful sieve
in its perfect separation of the dissolved from the
undissolved lime? The liquid that passes through it is
something more than water, clear though it is to the
eye; it contains a little dissolved lime? The liquid
that passes through is something more than water, clear
though it is to the eye; it contains a little dissolved
lime, as we find by tasting it. It is called
lime-water, and we shall use it as a test for carbonic
acid.
[286] "We must now obtain some of this carbonic-acid gas by
burning charcoal either in pure oxygen or in the
mixture of oxygen and nitrogen that we call atmospheric
air. We will adopt this latter method as being both
simpler and quicker. Here are two bottles of the same
size and both full of air. Leaving one for the
present, I introduce into the other a piece of charcoal
well on fire, and keep it there until it goes out,
which it soon does. A little carbonic acid has formed.
It is there in the bottle, invisible and mixed with
what is left of the air originally in the bottle. The
lime-water will betray its presence. I pour a spoonful
or two into the bottle and shake it up, whereupon it
loses its clearness and turns clouded and white. Is it
really the carbonic acid that has caused this sudden
change? In the bottle there is still some air,
containing nitrogen and the little oxygen not used up
by the burning of the charcoal. Could not one or the
other of these gases have caused the milky appearance
of the lime-water? We must make sure before asserting
anything. So I pour lime-water into the bottle that
has had no charcoal burned in it, and I shake it up,
but with no result; it remains perfectly clear. Hence
it must be the carbonic acid alone that turns the
lime-water white, and neither oxygen nor nitrogen has
anything to do with it. I will add that no gas except
carbonic acid has this power of giving a whitish
appearance to lime-water.
"So, then, we have in this liquid a useful means for
distinguishing carbonic acid from all other gases.
Suppose, for example, a certain bottle contains a gas
[287] that we know nothing about, and we wonder whether it
may possibly be carbonic acid. Lime-water settles the
question at once by either turning white when shaken up
in the bottle or by remaining unaffected. Often when
there has been some combustion of carbon without our
knowledge, lime-water will decide the matter, its
testimony being unimpeachable even where the presence
of carbonic acid is held to be impossible. We shall
have occasion to invoke this testimony in cases of the
utmost importance. Let us therefore bear this truth
well in mind: carbonic acid turns lime-water white and
conversely, whenever lime-water is turned white by a
gas, this gas is carbonic acid.
"I pour into a glass the liquid whitened by the
carbonic acid in the bottle. Hold it up to the light
and look through it. What do you see? Whirling white
flakes, fine particles like those in curdled milk. We
let the liquid stand undisturbed a while, and the white
particles slowly settle at the bottom, leaving the
liquid clear once more. I throw away the liquid and
keep the sediment. There is not much of it, hardly a
pinch. What can it be? From its appearance one might
say flour, starch, or powdered chalk. And chalk it is,
surely enough, chalk like that used for writing on a
blackboard.
"But don't for a moment imagine that the sticks of
chalk used for writing are made in the same way as this
pinch of white powder. They would cost an enormous sum
if, in order to make them, charcoal had to be burned
and then lime-water shaken up with the carbonic acid
thus obtained. Common
[288] chalk occurs ready-made in nature; it only has to be
separated from its impurities, pressed into a solid
mass, and cut into sticks. Nevertheless we have just
obtained real chalk by artificial means. And how has
this come about? It is this way: the water contained
lime in solution; carbonic acid came and took
possession of this lime, combining with it and forming
a salt known as carbonate of lime; and thus the white
powder you see there is a salt, a compound of lime and
carbonic acid,—in short, carbonate of lime.
"In its natural state this substance, though composed
always of carbonic acid and lime, may be of very
different degrees of fineness, consistency, and
hardness. If it is rather soft and tends to crumble,
it is chalk; if hard and coarse, limestone,
building-stone, ashlar; if still harder and of fine,
compact structure, it is marble. These various kinds
of stony substance, so different in name, appearance,
and use, are at bottom the same thing,—a union of
lime and burnt carbon. Chemistry, which pays no heed
to outer appearance, but considers only inner
structure, gives them all alike the name of carbonate
of lime. Hence we could if necessary get from chalk or
marble or any piece of limestone a supply of carbonic
acid that would not differ in the least from that
obtained by burning charcoal.
"Now I beg you to note the curious lesson taught us by
this lime-water. Suppose we wish to study the gas
produced by burning charcoal. Do we heap up fuel in
the fireplace and make a roaring fire? By now means.
We need no mass of glowing charcoal,
[289] no fireplace, no furnace. A few bits of stone will
furnish us the same gas, absolutely the same.
Chemistry abounds in similar examples that upset our
little stock of conventional notions. To the ignorant
all this seems like magic. Are you seeking the best
possible fuel? Chemistry tells you to look for it in
water. Do you wish for some gas such as rises from
burning coals? Chemistry informs you it is to be found
in stone.
"There is carbon in chalk. The blackest of black
substances enters into the composition of the very
whitest. To doubt this would be impossible even for
Emile, who is always demanding proof after proof,
whenever any statement surprises him by its novelty.
It was really carbon, in the form of charcoal, that I
burned in the bottle; a gas called carbonic acid was
thus produced; and then, but not before, the lime-water
brought into contact with this carbonic acid showed
tiny chalk-flakes whirling about in it. There is
carbon, I say, in chalk; but it is in the burnt state,
and to burn it over again is impossible unless its
present partnership with oxygen is first dissolved.
Consequently, chalk is incombustible. But carbon
abounds in numerous other substances, and in an unburnt
condition; therefore it is combustible. It cannot be
seen with the eye in these substances, nor is there
anything to make one suspect its presence. Take, for
example, the material of which so-called wax candles
are made: this is of a beautiful white appearance, as
is proved by the black smoke rising from the burning
wick. But,
disre- [290] garding this smoke, let us examine the substance itself
and find out whether it does really contain carbon.
Our course is marked out for us in advance: we have
only to light the candle and see whether there is any
carbonic acid formed. If so, it is an incontestable
proof that there is carbon in the white substance of
the candle. Let us try it.
"I renew the air in the bottle by filling it with pure
water and then emptying it, as I have already shown
you. Then I lower into the bottle a lighted candle
fastened to a wire, and I keep it there until it goes
out. Has any carbonic acid formed? Our lime-water
will tell us. I pour a little into the bottle and
shake it up. Ha! Look there: the lime-water has taken
on a cloudy whiteness, and hence we know the burning of
the candle has produced carbonic acid, proving that the
white substance of which the candle is made contains
carbon. Nothing difficult about that.
"Let us take another example. Paper contains carbon,
and we have but to bur a piece of it and examine the
charred fragments, to see, from the black color, that
it is there. But we will take no account of this
indication, which, after all, might be deceptive, as
all is not carbon that is black. Refilling our bottle
with pure air, I twist up a good-sized piece of paper
and burn it inside the bottle, taking care not to let
the ashes fall, as they would interfere with the rest
of the operation. That done, I call on the lime-water
to give its testimony, and again the lime-water turns
white. So there must be carbonic acid
[291] there, and hence carbon. It speaks for itself, you
see.
"Once more: The black smoke of the burning paper and
the black color of its charred fragments make us pretty
sure, without the help of lime-water, that paper
contains carbon, just as the black smoke rising from a
smoldering candle-wick makes us think the candle has
carbon in it; and this we infer despite the whiteness
of both paper and candle. But now we come to a third
substance that gives no similar indication of the
presence of carbon. It is alcohol, or spirit of wine.
Its strong winy odor proves at once that it is not
water, though it is quite as clear. It takes fire
readily and burns with a smokeless flame. Is there
carbon in this inflammable and perfectly colorless
liquid? Not a sign of anything black do we detect
either in the flame or anywhere near it. There is no
foul smoke, no dark-colored residue. Only lime-water
can settle the question here. Into a small cup
supported by a wire bent into a ring at one end I pour
a little alcohol I light it and lower it into the
bottle, the air in which I have first renewed.
As soon as the alcohol stops burning I apply the
lime-water test. The water is whitened. That settles
it. I can now affirm with absolute certainty that
alcohol, a liquid as colorless and transparent as
water, contains that compact black, opaque substance
called carbon.
"In this way we might test a great variety of
substances, and all in which the gaseous products of
combustion produced a clouding of lime-water would
[292] be shown to have carbon in their composition. If I
have laid some stress on this point, it is to show you
by experiment the deceitfulness of appearances in
determining the real nature of a compound substance. I
have just proved to you, by facts that speak for
themselves, the presence of carbon in substances that,
from appearances only, would not be suspected of
containing it; and thus you are prepared for the even
more surprising demonstration that a piece of stone can
be made to yield the gas we call carbonic acid.
"Chalk, marble, and all limestones contain carbonic
acid, an acid of little strength and always ready to
give up its place to any other acid that is more
powerful. In chemistry the harsh law of the strongest
prevails: get out of that and make room for me. If,
then, we pour some strong acid on carbonate of lime,
carbonic acid is set free, being ousted by the
new-comer, which takes its places and forms with the
lime a new salt. Sulphuric acid, for example, turns a
carbonate into a sulphate, and phosphoric acid turns it
into a phosphate. In both cases the carbonic acid is
set free, and its release is accompanied by a foaming
on the surface of the stone.
"The thing is worth seeing. Let us experiment with the
pinch of white powder obtained when we shook a little
lime-water in the bottle in which we had burned a piece
of charcoal. Here is the powder in the bottom of this
glass and not yet dry, but that will not interfere in
the least with the success of our experiment. I let a
drop of sulphuric acid fall on to the white paste.
Immediately
[293] the mixture has the appearance of boiling and is
covered with froth; it foams, as we say. This foam is
made of the bubbles of carbonic acid driven out by the
other acid. Now let us try some real chalk, such as is
used for writing on blackboards. I take a stick of it
and with the help of a slender glass rod I place a drop
of sulphuric acid on the chalk. Where the acid touches
the chalk there is a foaming appearance, a sure sign
that carbonic acid is being driven out.
"You were already inclined to consider this white
powder of the same nature as chalk, taking my word for
it and also judging from the likeness of appearance
between the two; and now a very decisive test proves it
beyond a doubt. Both substances foam when touched with
an acid, and both yield the same gas, as could easily
be ascertained by operating on a larger scale and by
collecting the bubbles of gas which cause the foam.
The resemblance is not confined to mere appearances,
but goes deeper and is fundamental; that is to say, the
two substances tested are the same thing.
"Limestone, again, is the same thing. But how are we
to know limestone when we see it, how distinguish it
from other kinds of stone? These are questions to be
answered without delay, as we are about to use this
stone in obtaining a sufficient supply of carbonic acid
for further experiments. We must not proceed in any
haphazard fashion, trying the first stone we come to,
and then another if that does not serve our purpose.
We must be able at the very start to give our apparatus
the right
[294] material for producing carbonic acid. Where is this
material, this storehouse of gas, to be found, and how
can we pick out our particular kind of stone from among
so many different kinds? A drop of strong acid will
give the answer. Here is a hard stone picked up in the
bed of a brook. I touch it with a drop of sulphuric
acid: no result, no foam; hence the stone contains no
carbonic acid, is not a carbonate, and will be of no
use to us in producing the gas we desire. We throw it
away. Here is a second stone, as hard as the first. I
test it in the same manner, and the acid makes it foam
at the merest touch. So there is carbonic acid here.
The stone is carbonate of lime, limestone. For one who
is not well acquainted with the rocks of his region and
cannot distinguish one from another by outward
appearances, there is—as you now see, I
hope—a very convenient way of settling all doubts
as to what is limestone and what is not."
"That is plain enough," Emile agreed; "if it foams with
a strong acid, it is limestone; if not, it isn't
limestone. The one that foams will give carbonic acid,
and the other won't for the very good reason that it
has none."
"In our definition," Uncle Paul continued, "I will
change only one word, and I do this in order that our
terms may be those used in chemistry. When I spoke of
'foaming' to indicate the bubbling or boiling produced
when a gas is set free, I should more properly have
said 'effervescing.' In chemical language, then, we
say that limestone effervesces under the action of a
strong acid, which is really the
[295] same as saying that it bubbles, foams, or froths; and a
stone that does not effervesce is not limestone.
"The word 'limestone' means carbonate of lime; but
there are many other carbonates, each metal giving one
of its own, or sometimes more than one, as occasionally
there are several carbonates for the same metal. Iron,
copper, lead, zinc, to name no others, have each its
own carbonate, just as calcium has, this last being, of
course, carbonate of lime, or limestone. This
carbonate is much more plentiful than any of the
others, and plays a more important part in this world
of ours; therefore I particularly call your attention
to it. A good half of the soil is made of it. Great
mountain-chains are blocks of this salt. Whether rare
or abundant, all carbonates without exception have the
peculiarity of effervescing when touched with an acid.
Since they all contain carbonic acid, as otherwise they
would not be carbonates, they all release this acid
when a stronger acid comes to take its place.
Effervescence or foaming is the invariable
accompaniment of this release of gas. You will see
before long what lessons are to be learned from this
peculiarity.
"I put into this glass a pinch or two of ashes from the
fireplace. If I were to ask you what these ashes
contain, what would your answer be? You could not tell
me, for neither sight, taste, nor smell gives us any
information. But by a skilful roundabout method we can
arrive at the answer, with evidence to back it up. I
pour a little sulphuric acid on the ashes, and very
decided effervescence follows, the mixture of acid and
ashes foaming rather violently.
[296] Consequently we infer— But who will tell me?"
"I know," Emile hastened to reply; "there is carbonate
of lime in the ashes."
"I think," said Jules, "that Emile has jumped to a
rather hasty conclusion. All carbonates effervesce
with acid, and so the foaming shows only that there is
a carbonate in the ashes, but doesn't tell us which
carbonate."
"You are right, my boy. The ashes contain carbonate,
but not that of lime; it is of another metal,
potassium, a name you have already heard. If what I
have just done to the ashes does not tell us the nature
of the metal they contain, it at least tells us that in
these ashes from our fireplace there is carbonic acid.
In this connection it is well for you to learn that
chemists determine the nature of a substance by just
such tests as this. You hand to the chemist a rock, a
mineral, an earthy substance, or anything else you deem
worthy of serious examination. He tests the thing with
one chemical and informs you that it contains iron; he
tests it with another and says it contains copper; a
third test proves the presence of sulphur; and so on.
Yet neither iron, copper, nor sulphur was visible to
the eye, nor did they become so in the course of the
various tests. Nevertheless, that they are there is
proved conclusively by the action of the various
chemicals. When a piece of white marble effervesces on
being touched with sulphuric acid, I conclude that the
marble contains carbonic acid and, consequently,
carbon. It is in a similar manner that the chemist
reasons from the tests he applies,
[297] ascertaining by these tests that one substance contains
this and another that, without needing to see with his
eyes either this or that.
"Now, then, let us get to work with our preparation of
carbonic acid. For this purpose we have here a
quantity of broken limestone. I put a good handful
into a glass, and add water to moderate the action of
the acid so as to give us a steady and not too rapid
release of the gas instead of a violent effervescence,
which would be difficult to manage. The acid I am
going to use will not be sulphuric acid, which I used
in the experiments you have just witnessed; and the
reason for not using it is this: with sulphuric acid,
carbonate of lime would change to sulphate of lime, or
plaster of Paris, an insoluble substance that would
encrust the fragments of stone and thus obstruct
further action on the part of the acid, so that the
release of gas would come to a standstill. The
operation, though successful enough at first, would
come to an untimely end. For an uninterrupted release
of gas, the pieces of stone must keep their surfaces
clean, not coated over with a protecting layer. In
other words, the new compound formed with the acid must
get out of the way as fast as it forms. This condition
is fulfilled if the new compound dissolves in the
surrounding water, a result obtained by the use of
hydrochloric acid."
"What acid did you say?" asked Emile.
"I said hydrochloric acid."
"What a funny name! I don't believe I can remember
it."
[298] "Don't blame me; I didn't invent it. We will call it,
if you like, spirit of salt, the name it bears in
workshops and factories where it is used. My friend
the blacksmith, who is also a locksmith and a
coppersmith, uses it to clean his old copper utensils,
and he gave me this bottleful. Talk to him about
spirit of salt, and he will know what you mean; call it
hydrochloric acid, and he will give you a blank look."
"But why is it called spirit of salt? That's a rather
queer name too."
"It is so called because it is made from salt, common
kitchen salt. As for the word 'spirit,' which seems to
puzzle you in this connection, it is a remnant of the
old-time language of early chemistry, which gave this
name to all invisible substances, substances that we
now call gases, in fact. To those chemists of long ago
the invisible and inflammable vapor that rises from hot
wine was the spirit of the wine, and the pungent acid
vapor derived from common salt treated in a certain way
was spirit of salt. 'Spirit of wine' is a term still
in common use, whereas 'spirit of salt' is heard only
among artisans having occasion to use it.
"This acid has another noteworthy peculiarity: it
contains no oxygen, is not a burnt metalloid as are
sulphuric acid, carbonic acid, phosphoric acid, and the
other acids we have had more or less occasion to speak
of. It is made of chlorin and hydrogen, and this
composition gives it the name you find so hard to
remember. Chlorin, as I hope you have not forgotten,
is the metalloid found in salt and in chloric
[299] acid. As to hydrogen, it is not necessary to remind
you what that is.
"Briefly, hydrochloric acid or spirit of salt,
whichever you please, is a yellowish liquid of a very
sour taste, evaporating in the air in white fumes of an
exceedingly pungent odor. I pour some into the glass
containing water and pieces of limestone, whereupon
there follows a lively boiling and bubbling caused by
the release of carbonic acid from the stone and its
replacement by the acid of salt; and this chemical
action we shall turn to our account in the next
lesson."
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