Such a process as this, contrasted with the usual methods of smelting metals in fiercely heated furnaces, seems altogether wonderful. Here a pure metal is extracted from the clayey earth of which it formed a part, without being melted or subjected to any of the familiar processes of the picturesque, but costly, laborious, and even dangerous, blast-furnaces. There is no glare and roar of fires; there are no showers of sparks; there is no gush of fiery streams of molten metal. A silent and invisible electric current, generated by the fall of distant waters, does the work more expeditiously, more efficiently, and more cheaply than it could be done by any other method as yet discovered.

Fully to appreciate the importance of the method just outlined, we must reflect that aluminum is a metal combining in some measure the properties of silver, copper, and iron. It rivals copper as a conductor of electricity; like silver it is white in color and little subject to tarnishing; like iron it has great hardness and tensile strength. True, it does not fully compete with the more familiar metals in their respective fields; but it combines many valuable qualities in fair degree; and it has an added property of extreme lightness that is all its own. Add to this the fact that aluminum is extremely abundant everywhere in nature—it is a constituent of nearly all soils and is computed to form about the twelfth part of the entire crust of the earth—whereas the other valuable metals are relatively rare, and it will appear that aluminum must be destined to play an important part in the mechanics of the future. There is every indication that the iron beds will begin to give out at no immeasurably distant day; but the supply of aluminum is absolutely inexhaustible. Until now there has been no means known of extracting it cheaply from the clay of which it forms so important a constituent. But at last electro-chemistry has solved the problem; and aluminum is sure to take an important place among the industrial metals, even should it fall short of the preeminent position as "the metal of the future" that was once prematurely predicted for it.

NITROGEN FROM THE AIR

There is a curious suggestiveness about this finding of aluminum at our very door, so to speak, some scores of centuries after the relatively rare and inaccessible metals had been known and utilized by man. But there is another yet more striking instance of an abundant element which man needed, but knew not how to obtain until the science of our own day solved the problem of making it available. This is the case of the nitrogen of the air. As every one knows, this gas forms more than three-fourths of the bulk of the atmosphere. But, unlike the other chief constituent, oxygen, it is not directly available for the use of plants and animals. Yet nitrogen is an absolutely essential constituent of the tissues of every living organism, vegetable and animal. Any living thing from which it is withheld must die of starvation, though every other constituent of food be supplied without stint; and the fact that the starving organism is bathed perpetually in an inexhaustible sea of atmosphere chiefly composed of nitrogen would not abate by one jot the certainty of its doom.

To be made available as food for plants (and thus indirectly as food for animals) nitrogen must be combined with some other element, to form a soluble salt. But unfortunately the atoms of nitrogen are very little prone to enter into such combinations; under all ordinary conditions they prefer a celibate existence. In every thunder-storm, however, a certain quantity of nitrogen is, through the agency of lightning, made to combine with the hydrogen of dissociated water-vapor, to form ammonia; and this ammonia, washed to the earth dissolved in rain drops, will in due course combine with constituents of the soil and become available as plant food. Once made captive in this manner, the nitrogen atom may pass through many changes and vicissitudes before it is again freed and returned to the atmosphere. It may, for example, pass from the tissues of a plant to the tissues of a herbivorous animal and thence to help make up the substance of a carnivorous animal. As animal excreta or as residue of decaying flesh it may return to the soil, to form the chief constituent of a guano bed, or of a nitrate bed,—in which latter case it has combined with lime or sodium to form a rocky stratum of the earth's crust that may not be disturbed for untold ages.

A moment's reflection on the conditions that govern vegetable and animal life in a state of nature will make it clear that a soil once supplied with soluble nitrates is likely to be replenished almost perpetually through the decay of vegetation. But it is equally clear that when the same soil is tilled by man, the balance of nature is likely to be at once disturbed. Every pound of grain or of meat shipped to a distant market removes a portion of nitrogen; and unless the deficit is artificially supplied, the soil becomes presently impoverished.

But an artificial supply of nitrogen is not easily secured—though something like twenty-five million tons of pure nitrogen are weighing down impartially upon every square mile of the earth's surface. In the midst of this tantalizing sea of plenty, the farmer has been obliged to take his choice between seeing his land become yearly more and more sterile and sending to far-off nitrate beds for material to take the place of that removed by his successive crops. The most important of the nitrate beds are situated in Chili, and have been in operation since the year 1830. The draft upon these beds has increased enormously in recent years, with the increasing needs of the world's population. In the year 1870, for example, only 150,000 tons of nitrate were shipped from the Chili beds; but in 1890 the annual output had grown to 800,000 tons; and it now exceeds a million and a half. Conservative estimates predict that at the present rate of increased output the entire supply will be exhausted in less than twenty years. And for some years back scientists and economists have been asking themselves, What then?

But now electro-chemistry has found an answer—even while the alarmists were predicting dire disaster. Means have been found to extract the nitrogen from the atmosphere, in a form available as plant food, and at a cost that enables the new synthetic product to compete in the market with the Chili nitrate. So all danger of a nitrogen famine is now at an end,—and applied science has placed to its credit another triumph, second to none, perhaps, among all its conquests. The author of this truly remarkable feat is a Swedish scientist, Christian Birkeland by name, Professor of Physics in the University of Christiania. His experiments were begun only about the year 1903, and the practical machinery for commercializing the results—in which enterprise Professor Birkeland has had the co-operation of a practical engineer, Mr. S. Eyde—is still in a sense in the experimental stage,—albeit a large factory was put in successful operation in 1905 at Notodden, Norway.

Professor Birkeland has thus accomplished what many investigators in various parts of the world have been striving after for years. The significance of his accomplishment consists in the fact that he has demonstrated the possibility of making nitrogen combine with oxygen in large quantities and at a relatively low expense. The mere fact of the combination, as a laboratory possibility, had been demonstrated in an elder generation by Cavendish, and more recently by such workers as Sir William Crookes, and Lord Rayleigh in England and Professors W. Mutjmaan and H. Hofer in Germany. Moreover, the experiments of Messrs. Bradley and Lovejoy, conducted on a commercial scale at Niagara Falls, had seemed to give promise of a complete solution of the problem; had, indeed, produced a nitrogen compound from the air in commercial quantity, but not, unfortunately, at a cost that made competition with the Chili nitrate possible. Equally unsuccessful in solving this important part of the problem had been the experiments, conducted on a large scale, of Professors Kowalski and Moscicki, at Freiburg.