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the earth exist in the other globes of the solar system, | loss of the fuel, however, is the least mischief produced and receive new views of that uniformity which appears by a bad coking: the iron will be deteriorated by the to rule the most distant parts of the universe. Enough, defects of the coke, when the latter retains sulphur or however, has been said to call the reader's attention silex; and the effects will be seen through every stage to the existence of the meteoric metal, and we must now of the manufacture, and be at last evident in the quality proceed to a survey of the processes connected with the of the iron itself when brought to market. manufacture of iron.

The first important operation is preparing fuel for the furnaces, a work of the greatest importance, as upon it depends the quality of the iron produced, and consequently, the profits and fame of the manufacturer. The reader may here inquire whether coal is not found abundantly in the iron districts? We answer, most certainly; noble fields of coal stretch for miles beneath the countries where the fires from iron furnaces startle the traveller, and gleam over the wild, northern moors, or on the sides of the Welsh hills. But coal will not suit the manufacturer's purpose; it will spoil his iron, and must, therefore, be coked before it can be used in the furnace. The best fuel is charcoal, which is consumed in the Swedish furnaces, and was formerly employed in England at the iron works, until the vast increase of the manufacture rendered the employment of such a substance impossible. Even in the time of Elizabeth, the great consumption of wood in the iron works induced the legislature to prohibit by statute the use of such a fuel, and there is no reason to apprehend that the manufacturer will infringe this law in 1847. Since sufficient charcoal cannot be procured, the next object is to provide a fuel nearly resembling it, and this coke supplies. Before, then, the ore can be in the least degree acted upon, an important preliminary operation is essential to expel from the coal those substances which are injurious to the iron. Coking is thus effected. A large quantity of coal being spread over the ground, the mass is lighted, and when the flames begin to rise, the whole bed of burning matter is covered with ashes to keep out the air, after which the coal is left to burn out, and by this process becomes changed into coke. Should a person unacquainted with the various works of an iron district be conducted into the midst of such a country on a dark night, he would suppose himself placed in the heart of some volcanic region, with eraters belching forth their fires from deep-seated centres of flame. Here in a valley spreads one fiery bed, resembling a lake of molten matter, swelling with its fierce glow above the surface; there on the side of a bleak mountain, a flaming chasm seems opened in the side of a volcano. To increase his surprise, figures like men are seen to dart to and fro amidst the sulphureous glare, as if performing some incantation.

Such feelings might influence the person whom we have supposed suddenly introduced to the novel spectacle; but the inhabitants of the districts are too accustomed to these sights to express wonder at things which are connected with their daily pursuits. Thus the smoke of Vesuvius arrests the earnest gaze of the Englishman who enters for the first time the bay of Naples, but has little attraction for those who have dwelt from childhood within sight of the opening through which the subterranean fires of southern Europe have for ages escaped.

Having now observed the preparation of the fuel destined to feed the furnaces, and produce results never witnessed by Prometheus 1 himself, we must proceed to an examination of the different operations by which the rough iron ore is changed into the useful metal. The first process is that of roasting, by which various vapours are expelled from the ore by exposing it to a heat sufficient for this purpose, but not so intense as to liquefy the mineral. Were these gases allowed to remain they would interfere with the subsequent operations of melting and refining; it is, therefore, of the highest consequence to dry the iron earth, and expel from it all watery and sulphureous particles. The task is not one which a rude, careless man, can satisfactorily perform, however simple the mere process of roasting a mass of ore may appear to the reader. In fact, we shall find, through every stage of the iron manufacture, that the greatest attention to all the details of the work is expected from the workmen, who are thus far removed from the dulness often produced by labours requiring little exertion save that of mere animal power.

The ore is put into a kiln for roasting, where the chief point requiring the workman's care is to preserve the heated mass within given temperatures, so that the heat shall neither fall below, nor rise above a fixed limit. If the furnace be too hot, the ore will begin to melt, and the pieces stick to each other, which is to be avoided; and if the fires be kept too low, the roasting will be inefficiently performed; in other words, the water and sulphur will not be sufficiently expelled from the mass. A great diminution in the weight of the ore is caused in the roasting, by which about one-fourth of the original is lost; a result to be expected when we consider the vast quantities of vapour driven from the rough ore by the heat.

The reader will remember that in this operation no melting has been permitted; this is the next step in the manufacture, and is termed smelting, a word apparently derived from the Saxon language, in which its root was of the same import with the modern term melt. The operation of smelting is thus performed: a large quantity of the roasted ore is put into a furnace, which is a clumsy shaped mass, often fifty feet high, and to the ore a certain bulk of coke and limestone, or clay, is added. The furnace being heated, the whole contents are reduced to a fluid; the metal sinks through the fiery mass to the bottom of the furnace, whence it escapes, when sufficiently prepared, through a hole purposely plugged up with earth or clay till the moment for extracting the melted iron. Thus the whole mass is kept simmering for about twelve hours, exposed to the most intense heat which the arts of the metallurgist can produce. The degree of heat requisite to melt iron would be represented by nearly 18,000° of Fahrenheit's thermometer; to support this the furnaces are constructed of the materials most fitted to resist the constant action of fire, such as fire-proof bricks, laid in fire-clay instead of mortar, and raised upon the most solid masonry. The lower part, on which the fluid metal rests, called the "hearth," is often formed of grit-stone, cemented with fire-clay; and even these are soon burnt into a basin-like shape by the constant heat.

However grand these coking fields may appear to a
stranger, the manufacturer is too much engaged in the
operation to pay attention to its picturesque circum-
stances, as profit alone, not a striking scene, is his
object. The anxiety often attending the work may be
estimated from the immense loss sometimes occasioned
during one stormy night, when the wind sweeping along
an exposed hill prevents the burning mass from being
effectually covered by the ashes, in consequence of
which an inferior coke is produced, and enormous
quantities of the fuel consumed, in spite of all the
coker's care. In such a night, a hundred tons of coal
may thus be lost by exposure to the atmosphere, an
important item in the expenses of a manufacture re-
quiring the most rigid economy in all its branches. The fore, regarded as the author of all arts.

Some may now inquire the object for which the lime, or clay, is introduced with the ore into the furnace, as this may seem like adding foreign substances to the mineral mass. This iron will not separate from the earth with which it is mixed without the assistance of some substance called a flux, which attracts to itself the (1) Perhaps it is not superfluous to inform some readers that Prometheus was deemed the bestower of fire upon men, and, there

non-metallic matter, and then enables the liberated iron to sink to the bottom, leaving the foreign substance with which it had been united floating at the top, like a thick scum or crust of molten lava. If the iron is calcareous,' it is evident that no object will be attained by adding more lime; clay is then used as a flux. It is therefore only with argillaceous2 iron ore that lime is employed. When the roasted ore, with the proper quantity of fluxing material and coke, has been placed in the furnace, the utmost watchfulness becomes necessary to keep every process in the right state, and secure the proper quantity of iron having all the requisites of a good marketable metal. Too much heat may not only injure the massive furnaces, by burning away the solid brickwork, but the iron produced is then bad in kind, and small in amount; whilst a too slow fire will also cause results equally pernicious. To secure the utmost attention on the part of the workmen, the masters usually pay them according to the quantity of metal produced; thence, not only the keeper of the furnace, but all his fellows, have the strongest motives for the exercise of care and skill.

(To be continued.)

Poetry.

[In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.]

TRUE WALTER.

From the German of Uhland.

REV. HENRY THOMPSON.

It was Childe Walter, true and good,
Rode past the lone chapelle;
There knelt a maid, in rueful mood,
Before our Ladye's cell.

"O stay, Childe Walter! true love, stay!
And know'st thou not the voice, I pray,
Thou erst didst love so well?”
"Whom sce I here? the faithless May,3
Whilome, alas! mine own?
Where hast thou left thy silk array ?
Where gold and jewel stone?"
"O sorrow that my sin has cost!
With thee my paradise I lost!

"Tis found with thee alone."

He rais'd her soft, that maiden bright,
In pity, to his selle;

She cast her arms around the knight
She lov'd again so well.

"Ah, Walter true! this heart, I feel,
It beats on cold unyielding steel;
On thine it throbs to dwell."

Into Childe Walter's towers they pace;
The halls were still and lone;
Full light did she his helm unlace:
His lusty hue was gone.

"Sunk eye, and cheek all pale of blee!
O ne'er wert thou so fair to me

As now, thou constant one!"
She loos'd the corslet from the breast
Torn by her heedless sin:

"What see I here? A haircloth vest!

Dost mourn for kith or kin ?"
"My best belov'd I mourn full sore,
Whom I on earth shall find no more,
Yet may hereafter win."

(1) A word formed from calcium, the name of the metal from which lime is formed.

(2) This word is derived from the Latin argilla, clay.

(3) This word is used for maid in our cld English writers, whom Uhland himself imitates in this and many other of his ballads; an imitation followed in this version. The other archaïc words are well known.

She casts her weeping at his feet;
She wrings her hands in prayer-
"This poor sad heart, for mercy sweet,
Thy pardon let it share.
O raise me now to joy anew!
O let me on thy bosom true

Forget all crime and care!"

"Stand up, stand up, my poor lost fere!
To raise thee now were vain :
My arms are stark, my heart is sere,
I feel nor joy nor pain.
Go, pine like me till life is fled;
For love is dead, for love is dead,
And never lives again."

Rectory, Wrington, Sept. 24, 1846.

Miscellaneous.

"I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne.

OUR CHILDHOOD.

ALL minds, even the dullest, remember the days of their youth; but all cannot bring back the indeser able brightness of that blessed season. They who would know what they once were, must not merely recollec but they must imagine the hills and valleys-if any such there were-in which their childhood played; the torrents, the water-falls, the lakes, the heather, the rocks, the heavens' imperial dome, the raven floating only a little lower than the eagle in the sky. To in gine what he then heard and saw, he must imagine ho own nature. He must collect from many vanished hours the power of his untamed heart; and he mast perhaps, transfuse also something of his maturer min into those dreams of his former being, thus linking the past with the present by a continuous chain, which though often invisible, is never broken. So is it to with the calmer affections that have grown within the shelter of a roof. We do not merely remember, we imagine, our father's house, the fireside, all his features then most living, now dead and buried; the very man ner of his smile, every tone of his voice. We mus combine with all the passionate and plastic power imagination, the spirit of a thousand happy hours in:: one moment; and we must invest with all that we ever felt to be venerable, such an image as alone can fill cr filial hearts. It is thus that imagination, which fis aided the growth of all our holiest and happiest affec tions, can preserve them to us unimpaired,—

"For she can bring us back the dead,
Even in the loveliest looks they wore."

-Blackwood's Magazine, 1837.

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this invitation.

Reading the Will.

A PAGE FROM THE DIARY OF A FORTUNE-HUNTER. BY MRS, ABDY.

THIS morning I received a note from my affianced | mined never to marry her while her uncle lived; bride, Constance Graham, requesting me to attend at he had frequently proclaimed her his heiress, but as two o'clock that day at the house of her late uncle frequently took offence at something or at nothing in in Harley-street, for the purpose of hearing his will her behaviour, and bequeathed his wealth to a hospital, read. I had the greatest pleasure in complying with prison, or lunatic asylum. I felt quite easy on the I had really begun to fancy that present occasion, for Mrs. Bates, Mr. Graham's houseold Mr. Graham was going to remain perpetually on keeper, had given me information that, only an hour the earth, like Mrs. Norton's "Undying One;" he before her master's death, he had told her he had handwas always on the point of death, and always cured, somely provided for Constance. I felt, however, that it and better than ever in the course of a few days; last was my policy to appear ignorant of that circumstance, month the cold water system seemed completely to Constance being very romantic, and Constance's mother renovate him, but he suddenly relapsed, departed from very suspicious. the world, and left fifty thousand pounds and a will At the appointed time I walked into the drawingbehind him. Though Constance is the prettiest and room in Harley-street, the very few relatives of the old most amiable girl of my acquaintance, I had deter- gentleman were assembled. There was Constance, look

VOL. IV.

ing as Hebe might have looked if Hebe had ever worn crape and bombazine; Constance's mother looking stiff, cross, and uneasy; an elderly female cousin, and a stripling nephew of the deceased. I feared none of them. I knew that Mr. Graham disliked his fine lady sister-in-law, despised the servility of his elderly cousin, and dreaded the frolics of his stripling nephew. I scated myself by Constance, and in a soft tone began to protest my affection and disinterestedness. "Knowing the caprice of your uncle, my beloved," I said; " I have every reason to conclude that I shall hear you are disinherited; this, however, will be of little moment to me; I have enough for comfort, though not for luxury, and, as the song beautifully says-

Still fixed in my heart be it never forgot That the wealth of the cottage is love." " "I fancy, Mr. Chilton," said Constance's mother, look ing excessively sneering and shrewish, "that it is pretty well known that my daughter is the sole heiress of her uncle's wealth."

"Indeed, Madam?" I replied, with a start of surprise, "I was not aware that any surmise was hazarded concerning the contents of Mr. Graham's will.”

"I have heard a surmise hazarded," sharply interposed the elderly cousin, "that Mr. Graham was not in his senses when he made it."

"Constance ! dear Constance !" I exclaimed, in the softest of tones. But Constance looked neither like Hebe nor Niobe, but as stern and severe as Medea, I then attacked Temple. "Is it legal,” I said, “only to read part of a will?"

"I read every word of the will," he replied, "ant having greatly fatigued myself by so doing, I trust that it was perfectly legal to refresh myself with a glass of sherry before I read the codicil."

I was going to utter some further remarks, when Constance's mother said, " Good morning, Mr. Chilton in a tone of voice which left me no alternative but s echo her leave-taking, and I descended the stairs, pr sued by a smothered laugh from the party in the dra ing room, returned home in very low spirits, and 2tered my adventure or rather misadventure in my diary, deducing from it this valuable piece of advice to p tlemen in search of fortune: "Never believe that a v

is concluded till you have inquired whether there is codicil to it."

THE IRON MANUFACTURE.1

THE intense heat required in the smelting and si processes is produced by blast machines, which drive Those wh "The mind must be both base and weak," retorted air into the furnaces by a steam-engine. Constance's mother, "which could give credence to such his fire, can form little notion of the effects prec have only seen the effect of a blacksmith's bellows: a rumour." And forthwith a sparring dialogue took place between the two ladies, during which I whispered by the impulsion of volumes of air into a glowing to Constance a page of Moore's poetry done into prose. furnace by powerful machinery. Strong iron vesse are filled with air, which is then forced through pis Temple now entered the room, the solicitor and intimate friend of the late Mr. Graham; he was a hand-by the steam-engine piston, into the furnace, thus kept some young man, and had presumed at one time to lift his eyes to Constance; he opened the will, and we all became mutely attentive. Oh, what a disappointment awaited us! Three thousand pounds were bequeathed to Constance, (this was the old fellow's idea of a handsome provision!) Five hundred pounds to the elderly cousin, ditto to the stripling nephew, small legacies to the servants, and the remainder of his wealth to found a cold water establishment for the reception of those who were not rich enough to pay a gratuity for being half drowned. Temple read the names of the attesting witnesses, and then refreshed himself with sherry and biscuits. As he was a friend of the family, his presence

was no restraint on conversation.

"That will ought to be disputed," said Constance's mother, looking very red, "I do not believe Mr. Graham was in his senses when he made it."

"I thought," said the elderly cousin, with a sneer, "that the mind must be both base and weak which could give credence to such a surmise."

"Dear mamma!" said Constance," do not be discomposed; I am very well contented-I shall not be quite a portionless bride." Constance here held out her deli

cate white hand to me-I affected not to see it.

"My dear Miss Graham," I said, " do not believe me so cruel and selfish as to wish to plunge you into poverty."

"I thought you said that your income was sufficient for every comfort," remarked the stripling nephew.

I did not condescend to answer him, but continued: "No, Constance, though it breaks my heart to do so, I give you back your freedom, saying, in the pathetic words of Haynes Bayly, May your lot in life be happy, undisturbed by thoughts of me!'" I was just making to the door, leaving Constance looking more like Niobe than Hebe, when Tempie said, "I think the party had

better remain till I have read the codicil."

I reseated myself in amaze, and Temple forthwith read that the testator, being convinced that he had received no benefit from the cold water system, revoked and rescinded his legacy to it, bequeathing the same to his beloved niece, Constance Graham.

at the heat requisite for the smelting operation. might be imagined that the introduction of st volumes of air would be sufficient for the productiez all the heat required, but not so have the iron-ma thought: hot air is now poured into the furnaces, a thus the heat is never diminished by the inrush of ef matter upon the melted mass.

In working the furnaces, the introduction of air ale engages the most anxious thoughts of the operative, of which may be lost by slight neglect. One is e three important objects are sought to be obtained. introduction of a uniform supply of air, as any i gularity in this respect will injure the action of furnace, and diminish the value of the metal. feeble the next; now this uniformity cannot be se blast must not, therefore, be strong at one momenti. by anything resembling the bellows-action, in which air must rush out with variable force; to obviate t the air is collected in a cylinder, and thence sent t furnace. The next object of care is the reguls greatest amount and the best quantity of iron. T of the quantity of air most suitable to produc demands the most acute watchfulness, for even a s change of wind from east to west will affect the work of the furnace. The anxiety of the workmen is increased by the unaccountable variations someti exhibited by a furnace, which, after working well, be men's skill and labour to detect the causes of all at once to fail in its performances, baffling a responsibilities of the keeper when hot air is used 5 disorder. A third object still farther increases th the blasts, for it is then necessary to guard a the absorption of moisture by the heated air, rend more capable of absorption in its hot condition. heated air absorbs moisture with great rapidity, the as the temperature required is 300° of Fahrenheit, is considerable risk of damp being carried into 15 fire from the blast machine; a result which we materially impede the working of the furnace. and experience are essential; and the quality of Thus, in the management of the air alone, great shi

(1) Continued from page $2.

iron in a high pressure engine, or in a first-rate warfrigate, depends on the caution exercised by some plain Welsh or Lancashire workman.

The holes through which the blast-pipes conduct the air into the furnace are usually about four inches in diameter; these are called twyers, (pronounced tweers,) the number of which varies, most furnaces having three, and some but one. The effects produced on the metal by the heat may be described as follows. The oxygen is expelled from the iron, and unites with the carbon of the coke, forming carbonic oxide; the carbon combines also with the fluid metal, and the lime with the earth of the ore, upon which the pure iron falls through the fuel to the hearth.

Thus the operation of smelting is in reality nothing but a great chemical process, by which the various substances in the furnace are brought into new relatzonships.

When the refining has advanced to the proper point, the liquefied metal is run out through a hole into moulds prepared for the purpose, into which the brilliant stream falls hissing, flashing, and throwing out the most beautiful scintillations. The moulds are placed over cisterns of water, which keep them cool, and chill the boiling iron as it flows over the bottom of the trough. Thus the metal has been passed twice through the fires, once in the smelting furnace, and again in the refineries, being brought in the former from its ore condition, and receiving in the latter process an additional purification.

But the work is not yet over; the iron has but reached its second stage: various processes must be passed through before the finished bar-iron appears; and the next operation is one called puddling, by which the metal is further freed from the gases and foreign matter mixed with the ore. The puddling is thus performed: a quantity of the refined iron is put into what is called a reverberatory furnace, in which the flame is confined as in an oven, and forced down upon the surface of the broken metal. In about half an hour, the pieces of iron begin to melt, and are kept stirred about with an instrument, till all is mixed in one fluid mass. This stirring causes the melted metal to part with more of its oxygen and carbon, the escape of which is indicated by the heavings of the liquid iron, as the expanded gases swell the surface when bursting from their ficry prison. After some time the metal is observed to thicken, the particles collect in small lumps, and as the No. 1 contains much carbon, is soft, and used for orna-stirring proceeds, the conglomeration goes on till the mental work, such as requires the most delicate moulds. No. 2 contains less carbon than the last mentioned, and does not run to the same degree of fluidity, but will, nevertheless, fill the interstices of moulds when not very fine.

When the iron has been reduced to the proper state, it is let out from the furnace into a trough formed in the sand, called a sow, from which smaller troughs branch off called pigs, and the iron when cooled is therefore called pig-iron. This is the first condition in which iron presents itself to our view, and in this state it is also brought into the market, being classed, according to its qualities, from No. 1, to No. 6. The first three, Nos. 1, 2, 3, are called foundry iron; and the last three, Nos. 4, 5, 6, are styled forge iron; the former being in a state fit for casting, and the latter only adapted for the forge.

No. 3. This is harder than either of the preceding, contains also less carbon, and is fit either for the foundry or the forge. The large parts of machinery are formed from this iron, such as the wheels of engines, cylinders, &c.

No. 4. This is classed with forge iron, but as No. 3 is sometimes cast and sometimes forged, so is it with No. 4, which is often used for large castings. No. 5. This is called mottled iron, and is never cast, but used in the forge alone.

No. 6 contains the least carbon of all pig-iron, and runs so thickly from the furnace that it will hardly flow into the moulds or "pigs." It is so hard that a chisel cannot scratch it, yet its extreme brittleness causes the largest bars to break with a slight blow.

The reader will note that the varieties of these six classes of iron arise in some way from the presence or absence of carbon; and thus the same substance which Causes the diversities in the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, exerts its hidden power in the molten and boiling iron.

The next operation after smelting is refining, by which the metal is still further purified from foreign Matters, and especially from the carbon and oxygen Jet remaining in the pig-iron. The furnaces, into which the rough pigs are now cast, consist of low oven-like structures, called refineries, having the bottom or hearth formed of fire-bricks, and the sides of cast iron, kept as cool as possible by a stream of water flowing round them. This last precaution is rendered necessary by the intense heat to which these refineries are exposed, which Would certainly melt parts of the furnace itself, were not some counteracting agency employed. Above such a furnace rises a chimney of considerable diameter, though not more than eighteen or twenty feet high. The intense heat produced suffices to bring the whole of the iron into a proper state for running into the moulds in about two hours: this will give twelve runs in the twenty-four hours; and as such furnaces are kept at work day and night, between seventy and eighty runs will be obtained in a week.

iron acquires the consistency of thick paste, which enables the puddler to form with his tool five or six roundish masses of half liquid iron.

The heat required in the puddling furnace is sometimes so intense as to burn the bottom of the furnace

itself, notwithstanding the coating of scoria by which it is protected, and the draught regulator, at the top of a chimney thirty feet high, is frequently red hot. When the soft balls are thoroughly formed, the workman removes them from the furnace with a peculiar kind of gigantic tongs, and places each ball of hot metal under a hammer weighing four or five tons, by the repeated strokes of which the puddled masses are flattened into oblong pieces. The powerful strokes of these massive hammers produce a still further refinement of the iron, by driving out more of the oxydized matter which still clings with tenacity to the metal. A spectator unaccustomed to the phenomena of the iron works, would be disposed to keep at some distance during this "shingling," for the fiery particles shoot in all directions from the glowing balls, and compel the shinglers to wear a protecting dress. The escape of gas is seen by the hissing and flaming of the metal, as the enormous hammers rapidly fall, and seem as if they must necessarily beat every particle of vapour from the iron.

When the operation is over, the balls change their names, being called blooms, and are then prepared for further processes, yet necessary to make the iron useful to man. It sometimes happens that a ball has been badly puddled, either through want of attention in the workman, or the badness of the iron employed; in this case it takes the singular name of a "shadrach," a term evidently borrowed from the narrative in Daniel of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Nor is the word so applied inappropriate, for as Shadrach was little affected by the fire through which he had passed, so the imperfeetly puddled ball has not been rightly acted upon by the furnace.

The main object of puddling is to purify the metal, and thus to render it more fitted for sustaining the

tasks to which it must hereafter be subjected in the form of steam-engine cranks or chain cables; and

the greatest attention is therefore paid to the operation,

The shingling is not quite so important, being chiefly a means of bringing the metal into a more convenient shape for the process called rolling. The agencies now

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