It is a matter for speculation whether any other raw material is so prolific of residuals as coal. Oil is probably the solitary exception, but then petroleum is closely allied to the solid fuel. But refuse in regard to coal is equally ambiguous. The wastes vary so widely in nature, while each grade of residue possesses its individual possibilities. We are disposed to pride ourselves upon the big strides we have made in our exploitation of these residues but, as a matter of fact, we have barely touched the Aladdin’s lamp which it represents.

To render full justice to the coal-waste issue in all its kaleidoscopic forms would absorb many volumes. The subject is so vast and complex. It is my intention, within the scope of this chapter, to confine myself to one specific substance derived from coal, one which we persistently declined to consider in its real aspect until the fight for national existence applied the sledge-hammer blows to drive into our heads that we were guilty of criminal neglect. Why we should have required this drastic force to compel us to admit our indifference towards a great national asset it is difficult to explain. Our most formidable rival in trade had been sparing no effort for years to achieve an overwhelming industrial triumph therewith and to our discomfiture.

As I have previously remarked, Germany revelled in our junk piles and rubbish-heaps. The French chiffonnier never raked over the contents of a Parisian dust-bin more assiduously than did the German rummage among our waste dumps. He was not too proud to bear away what we disdained and rejected. It served as food to maintain the colossal plants, equipped with elaborate and costly machinery, which he laid down. We, on our part, were not backward in paying him, directly and indirectly, to work up our wastes, especially those from coal, and were ever ready to acquire the articles manufactured therefrom and at any price he felt disposed to quote.

While, to a certain degree, we have become wiser in our generation, and are handling our coal resources and the residuals resulting therefrom with less prodigality, we are still woefully improvident in this field. The degree of waste, despite the reforms introduced, has become accentuated essentially because of the increased magnitude of this industry. The blind adherence to typically British methods and ideas has led to some striking anomalies which to other nations must appear almost incredible. For instance, the coming of the high-speed, internal combustion motor emphasized the need for a volatile liquid fuel. Experience proved the hydro-carbon, petrol, to be most eminently adapted to the purpose. But Britain, as every one knows, has so far proved to be as barren of paying petroleum deposits as is the Sahara of cornfields. So, as we could not produce petrol, we decided to buy it from abroad, and continue to do so to this day.

Yet we need never have bought a single gallon from a foreign country, to keep our huge fleets of motor-omnibuses, taxi-cabs, touring cars, lorries, vans, agricultural tractors, and motor-boats moving. If we were as wideawake as we ought to be we should cease to buy a further pennyworth from beyond the confines of the Empire forthwith, turning the millions sterling we spent annually in this connection into the pockets of our own workers and industries. It would not involve the withdrawal of a single vehicle, and we should have the satisfaction of knowing that we were absolutely independent of the foreigner in a matter of most vital concern to the community—transport.

The domestic analogue to imported petrol is benzol, the volatile hydrocarbon coaxed from our old friend, King Coal. From the motoring point of view this derivative from the mineral fuel is capable of fulfilling every purpose in regard to transport which petrol can or ever will do. Why we still refrain from setting out to recover this spirit to the uttermost ounce, notwithstanding the lessons taught by the war, is beyond comprehension. There are some kinks in British mentality which defy all unravelling. The exploitation of liquid fuel from coal is one of them.

If we turn to the trading figures for the fiscal year 1913 we find that we imported petrol to the extent of 100,588,017 gallons for which we paid £3,803,397—$19,016,985. This money was sent out of the country. Even our Dominions did not reap much benefit from our liberality. Turning to the other side of the account we find that during the self-same period we sold to foreign purchasers 30,415 gallons of motor spirit made in the United Kingdom, and valued at £1,420—$7,100! Our delightfully unbusinesslike way of doing things left us £3,801,977—$19,009,885—on the wrong side, when really we ought to have shown a substantial balance in our favour.

Benzol is not only essential to the motor industry, but it is absolutely indispensable to numerous other trades. Without it the vast range of synthetic colours, marketed by the German firms, could never have been attained. Had Germany embarked upon an economic instead of a military war she could have forced the whole world into abject surrender within a few months by withholding supplies of these dye-stuffs, medicinal preparations, synthetic drugs, disinfectants, and chemicals. This is borne out by the abnormal prices realized from the sale of the small quantity of dyes which were smuggled across the Atlantic to the United States of America by the commercial submarine Deutschland. One small box containing 100 lb. of sky-blue colouring realized £190 or 38s.—$950 or $9.50—a pound! Before the war the self-same dye-stuff could be purchased readily for 2s.—50 cents—a pound.

By making the plunge along industrial lines Germany could have brought our cotton, woollen, silk and other textiles, paper, paint—in short, every trade into which colourings enter—to a dead standstill within a very short time. The United States of America, France, Italy, and other countries would have been forced into a similar condition of stagnation and disaster. Germany, by virtue of her unlimited supplies of these essentials to contemporary industry, would have been in the position to have supplied the whole world—upon her own terms. Fortunately for us, a bloodless victory to secure world-wide domination did not appeal to the Teuton temperament.

The official attitude, so far as this country is concerned, towards the reclamation of the volatile liquid constituent, or waste, from coal has always been one of negation. Contrast this tendency with that obtaining in Germany, which set out to support private enterprise by installing a comprehensive plant upon Government property to win 6,000,000 gallons of benzol a year from state-owned and state-mined coal. The British official attitude is additionally remarkable when it is borne in mind that adequate supplies of this material are absolutely imperative to the maintenance of our national security, because benzol constitutes the backbone of modern high explosives.