CHAPTER III
THE FUEL OF THE FUTURE
We now enter for a while the realm of organic chemistry, a branch of knowledge which is of supreme interest, since it covers the matters of which our own bodies are constructed, the foods which we eat and the beverages which we drink, besides a host of other things of great value to us.
Although the old division of chemistry into inorganic and organic is still kept up as a matter of convenience, the old boundaries between the two have become largely obliterated. The distinction arose from the fact that there used to be (and are still to a very great extent) a number of highly complex substances the composition of which is known, for they can be analysed, or taken to pieces, but which the wit of man has failed to put together. Consequently these substances could only be obtained from organic bodies. The living trees, or animals, could in some mysterious way bring these combinations about, but man could not. The molecules of these substances are much more complicated than those with which the inorganic chemist deals. The important ingredient in them all is carbon, which with hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen almost completes the list of the simple elements of which these marvellous substances are compounded. In some cases there appear to be hundreds of atoms in the molecule.
If one takes a glance at a text-book on organic chemistry the pages are seen to be sprinkled all over with C's and O's, N's and H's, with but an occasional symbol for some other element.
Another feature of this branch which cannot fail to strike the casual observer is the queer names which many of the substances possess. Trimethylaniline, triphenylmethane and mononitrophenol are a few examples which happen to occur to the memory, and they are by no means the longest or queerest-sounding.
Another peculiarity about these organic substances is that a number of them, each quite different from the others, can be formed of the same atoms. Certain atoms of hydrogen, sulphur and oxygen form sulphuric acid, and under whatever conditions they combine they never form anything else. On the other hand, there are sixty-six different substances all formed of eight of carbon, twelve of hydrogen and four of oxygen. This can only mean that in such cases as the latter the atoms have different groupings and that when grouped in one way they form one thing, in another way some other thing, and so on. This explains the extreme difficulty which the chemist finds in building up some of these organic substances.
Every now and again we are startled by some eminent man stating that the time will come when we shall be able to make living things, when the laboratory will turn out living cows and sheep, birds and insects, even man with a mind and soul of his own. Yet one cannot but feel that such men, no matter how great their authority, are simply "pulling the public's leg," to use a colloquial expression. For they hopelessly fail to make many of the commonest things. In many cases where they wish to produce an organic substance they have to call in the aid of some living thing to do it for them, even if it be but a humble microbe. For the microbes perform wonderful feats in chemistry, far surpassing those of the most eminent men. Hence the latter very sensibly use the microbe, employ it to work for them, just set things in order and then stand by while the microbe does the work.
Thus most things can be analysed—that is to say, taken to pieces—while many things can now be synthesised—that is to say, built up from their constituent atoms—but still a great many remain, and among them the most important, the synthesis of which completely baffles man. One of the most useful and widespread substances, for example, cellulose, is, at present at least, utterly beyond us. We do not even know how many atoms there are in the cellulose molecule. The molecules may, for all we know, contain thousands of atoms. Indeed many of these organic matters have very large molecules.
And even if the chemist were able to make all kinds of organic matter, he would still be as far off as ever from making living matter. Indigo used to be derived entirely from plants of that name. One of the greatest triumphs of the organic chemist was when he produced artificial or synthetic indigo. But he is as far off as ever from making the indigo plant. It is claimed that "synthetic" rubber is exactly the same as natural rubber, although some users say it is not quite the same. Still, if it be so, it is dead rubber, not the living part of the plant. The time, then, is infinitely far distant when the chemist will be able to make anything with the characteristics of life—namely, to grow by accretion from within and to reproduce its kind. The most wonderful product of the laboratory is dead. At most it simply resembles something which once was alive.