CHAPTER VI

_The Nature of Crystals: Metals_

THE use of metals has been one of the great factors in the development

of the activities of the human race. The beginning of the story is

so far back in the ages that we can only make guesses as to how men

first made metal tools and weapons. Perhaps copper was picked up in

its native state, and its weight suggested its usefulness in a fight.

Copper is too soft to take a cutting edge, and it may not have been

very long before it was found that there was an alloy of copper and tin

which was far harder and more serviceable than copper alone. Perhaps

there was tin in the stones of which the copper smelting furnace was

built, perhaps copper and tin occurred together in the same mineral.

And so the age of bronze set in. Iron came later, of course. From that

time to this there have been workers of metal--important members of the

human community. We have but to think of the magnitude of the metal

industry in this country alone, to realize how great a part the metals

play in the life of the world.

In all these thousands of years a vast body of experience has been

gained. Some of it is in books, some of it is still a tradition handed

down by the skilled workman to the apprentice. There is even a sense of

the nature, or condition, or property of a metal which cannot be put

into words, and is only taught by example to such as have the power

to understand. Nor is this any trifling matter: the whole movement of

trade and the welfare of a nation may rest upon it.

On the other hand, the properties of the metals must depend, in the

first place, on the properties of the individual atoms, and, in the

second place, on the atomic arrangement, which is in effect the state

of crystallization. In the very centers of the metal industries it has

been realized of recent years that the scientific observer with his

microscope can bring some system into the mass of disordered knowledge,

and can improve the quality of the manufacture and the certainty of its

production.

[Illustration: PLATE XXII.

Two photographs of aluminium: the surface has been prepared so as to

show the different crystals. The crystals scatter the incident light

differently because they are set in different ways, and the surfaces

exposed by treatment are therefore different in nature, in one figure

the scale has been reduced somewhat from the natural size, in the other

considerably enlarged.

(From a paper by Carpenter and Elam, read before the Institute of

Metals, Sept. 1920.)]

Yet, as I have said already, the microscope can only go to a certain

length: it stops far short of the point which we must reach if we

are to understand how the atoms are acting so as to give the various

materials their specific properties. It can show the existence of the

separate crystals in the metal, but not the arrangement of the atoms

in the crystals (Pls. XXII, XXIII). In the X-rays we find a new hope;

indeed, it is more than a hope. We may be sure that the intimate

knowledge which they give us will in the end throw a flood of light

upon the inner meaning and purpose of all the complex properties of

metals. It may be a long time before the new movement will become great

and obvious. The experience of thousands of years has to be caught

up with and explained. It is quite otherwise with such a subject as

electrical engineering, or wireless telephony, which is a branch of it.

Here the whole process is rooted in the work of the physics laboratory,

and development has been directed by knowledge and anticipation. The

worker in metals has been guided through the ages by trial and error,

by experiment with little knowledge to guide it. It is a very slow

process; but it has been going on a long time, and its findings

command respect. They must be studied very carefully in the new light

which the X-rays give us.

Already we begin to find explanations, as we may call them, of some

of the properties of the metals. They depend upon the crystalline

structure, as we might have expected. Sometimes the crystals are to be

seen by the naked eye; sometimes they become obvious when the surface

is properly prepared and placed under the microscope. But the easiest

and most complete way of discovering them is by means of the X-rays,

with their fineness of vision.

The structures of almost all the metal crystals have been determined

by the X-rays, and it appears that they are usually very simple.

For instance, the atoms of gold, silver, copper, and aluminium are

put together like the piles of round shot that used to stand beside

the guns of a hundred years ago. It is worth while to look a little

carefully into this arrangement, although we are really repeating the

comparison (p. 189) between the structures of ice and diamond.

[Illustration: PLATE XXIII.

(By courtesy of the University of London Press, Ltd.)

The photograph shows the irregular outline of the crystal grains in a

sample of steel, and, in addition, a cross-crossing of lines within

each grain, known as “Widmanstätten lines.” These last are due to the

fact that the polishing tool has rut across the “atom layers,” in much

the same way as polishing cuts across layers of mother of pearl.

(From Belaiew’s “Crystallisation of Metals.”)]

Suppose we put together a number of balls into the triangular

arrangement of Fig. 53, and surround them by a triangular guard, as

shown, just as balls are packed together for playing pool on the

billiard table.

[Illustration: Fig. 53.--A close-packed arrangement of balls in one

layer.]

We lay on these another layer, forming a triangle a little smaller

than the first, and again other layers until the triangular pyramid is

finished (Plate XXIV b). Obviously there can be no closer method of

packing round balls together. Now if we look into the arrangement of

the layers one above the other, we find that the balls in any layer are

exactly over the balls in the next layer but _two_. In the absence of a

model this effect may be realized by the help of Fig. 54. The crosses

represent the centers of the balls in a certain layer, the circles

the centers in the next layer, and the black spots the centers in the

third. The centers in the fourth will be over the crosses, in the fifth

over the circles, and in the sixth over the spots, and so on.

When balls are arranged in this way, it is possible to cut cubes out of

the assembly, as in Plate XXV a. It is always a surprise when

this fact is first realized, but it is well to understand the cause of

it, because so many crystals are made up of atoms piled together in

this way, and they so often grow as cubes or in some way show their

close connection with the cubic form.

Now if, when we have laid down two layers and come to the arrangement

of the third, we place it so that each ball is exactly over a ball in

the first layer, which arrangement is the only alternative to the one

we chose before, we have another way of packing the balls which is as

compact as the other. In this case, the balls in any layer are exactly

over the balls in the _next layer but one_, and Fig. 54 a will be

replaced by Fig. 54 b, and the arrangement of Plate XXV a by that of

XXV b. This arrangement will not stand up now without containing walls,

if we are to have a reasonable number of balls in the model; we must

pin them together in some way. When we look down on this model from

above, we see six-sided tunnels running through it, and we do not sec

any arrangement of this kind when we look in any other direction.

[Illustration: PLATE XXIV.

A. Small groups of shot are in close packing, and there are irregular

gaps between the groups.

B. A pyramid, built by the super-position of layers like that of Fig.

53.]

[Illustration: Fig. 54.--In A is shown the arrangement of the layers as

seen by an observer looking along a diagonal of the cube of Plate XXV

a. The black spot represents the ball at the corner. The small

circles represent the six balls in the next layer, and the crosses

the fifteen in the next layer. In B the arrangement is as seen by an

observer looking down on Plate XXV b from above. The nineteen

black spots represent the balls in the top layer, and the twelve small

circles the balls in the next layer. The third layer is like the first,

the fourth like the second, and so on. The repetition is after every

second layer; in A it is after every third.]

The model has a single axis in the vertical direction, and round that

axis the arrangement is such that a crystal built on this plan would

naturally form hexagonal columns.

In the case of the cube there are four ways of thinking of the

arrangement of the layers; there is a layer perpendicular to each

diagonal of the cube, and, as a cube has four diagonals, there are four

sets of layers. This does not mean that the atoms in any one layer are

specially tied together in that layer; merely that one can sort out the

atoms of the crystal into this kind of layer in four different ways.

Now it turns out that these layers are of very great importance

in respect to the properties of the metal crystals built on the

close-packed cubic plan. Gold, silver, copper, aluminium, and other

metals like them can be drawn into wires, rolled into sheets, and

beaten into various shapes. They are, as we say, ductile, and their

ductility is one of the characteristics that make them so useful. They

can be bent and pulled into all sorts of convenient forms. It seems

possible to make a metal flow like treacle. Gold can be hammered into

leaves so thin that the metal in a sovereign will cover a large field;

the others can be beaten nearly as thin.

[Illustration: PLATE XXV.

A. Cubic packing. B. Hexagonal packing.

(From Pope’s “Modern Aspects of the Molecular Theory.”)

A shows how balls are packed together to form a cube. It is exactly the

same packing as in Plate XXIX B. The close-packed layers of Fig. 53

are horizontal in Plate XXIV B, and in A they are perpendicular to a

diagonal of the cube.

B shows the other form of close packing. Each horizontal layer is a

close-packed layer of Fig. 53.]

Cups and vessels of all sorts, chains and ornaments, and innumerable

useful things are made by taking advantage of this singular property of

ductility. The first thing that we should like the X-ray to explain for

us more clearly, if we can make them do so, is that feature in their

structure which accounts for this most valuable property. We should

also like to understand the inner meaning of the hardening and other

changes that are due to “cold-working,” as it is called--that is to

say, to hammering or straining the metal when it is cold. And what is

annealing, the softening and relief from strain that heat brings about?

Why are all these things so obvious in the case of a metal, while they

do not appear in, for instance, diamond or rock salt or quartz?

Already we begin to see some little way into these difficult questions;

and in particular we have found out something about the way in which

the metal yields to a pull or any other strain, and have learned that

it has to do with the layers of which I have spoken.

A metal is rarely one whole crystal: it is, in general, an assemblage

of crystals, pointing in all directions. Sometimes these crystals can

be seen easily; sometimes the microscope is required to show them. Very

often they are too small even for the microscope, and the X-rays alone

can make them clear.

If we put a number of shot on a tray and let them all run together by

tilting the tray slightly (Plate XXIV a), we observe that

there is a tendency for the shot to arrange themselves like the balls

in Fig. 53. It will not often happen that all the shot will form one

arrangement: there will be groups, each properly arranged in itself,

but not correctly aligned with its neighbors. In just the same way

there will be local arrangements among the atoms of a metal--in other

words, there will be crystallization in groups, larger or smaller, the

connection between the groups being somewhat irregular. We may observe

at once that the connection between group and group is not necessarily

any weaker than the connection between the atoms in any one group. Why

this is so, it is difficult to say. We need not be surprised at it,

because the ties between atoms are complicated things, imperfectly

known to us, and we cannot predict accurately what will happen in every

case.

[Illustration: Fig. 55.--The two blocks are stuck together, but can

slide over each other. When pulled they change in relative position

from (_a_) to (_b_).]

It is said that when gold is at a high temperature a fracture cuts

through the crystals, but when the gold is cold it goes round them; and

this will illustrate the complexity of the effect.

A block of one of these metals may reasonably be expected, therefore,

to consist of a mass of crystals, large and small; and this is exactly

what the X-rays show to be the case, even when the microscope fails

because the crystals are too small for it to see.

Now when we take a single crystal and try to bend it or distort it, we

find always that it gives finally through a slip along a plane: all

that is on one side of the plane slipping with respect to all that is

on the other. These planes are the planes we spoke of before--those

that contain atoms arranged as in Fig. 53. A single metal crystal does

not give way exactly in the direction in which it is pulled. If we had

two blocks of glass, let us say, held together by grease as in Fig. 55,

and pulled them, they would give along the plane between them.

[Illustration: Fig. 56.--This figure represents in the form of a

diagram the slipping on one another of the layers of the aluminium

crystal.]

Naturally they will slide over one another on this plane rather than

themselves be torn to pieces. In the case of a metal there is not

merely one plane, but many planes, and many of them will be planes of

sliding either together or one after another. We might represent the

crystal by a set of lines as in Fig. 56 (_a_), which, if pulled

in the direction of the arrows, would yield as in Fig. 56 (_b_).

Often when a single metallic crystal has been stretched, we can see the

marks on its surface which show the lines along which slip has taken

place.

Professor Carpenter and Miss Elam have shown recently some beautiful

examples of this kind of effect in the case of large crystals of

aluminium. An ordinary piece of the metal consists of a multitude of

crystals pointing in all ways, as we have already understood to be the

case. By a somewhat complicated process of heating and stretching, the

many small crystals can all be made to line up and form a small number

of large crystals, just as we might imagine that by shaking or tapping

the tray of shot shown in Plate XXIV a in some way, to be

found out by experience, we could get all the minor regular groupings

merged into one large one.

The pieces chosen for experiment were of a form often used for pieces

to be tested for their resistance to pull; the form is shown in Plate

XXVI; the original length of each piece is eight inches. The broad

ends are intended to be gripped by the jaws of the machine that is to

stretch the piece; the narrower part is that which is to give way, and

to show by the way in which it does so, and the pull that is exerted,

the capacity of the metal to resist the forces that would strain it.

When one of the test pieces so treated is put into the testing machine

and pulled, it gives way in a curious fashion, which differs for

different specimens (Plate XXVI, 1 to 4). Sometimes the width of the

piece remains the same, and it thins out gradually as the test piece

lengthens under the pull: it may grow longer by several inches before

it gives way. Sometimes the thickness remains the same, and the piece

shrinks sideways, developing a waist which finally is the place of

breaking. At other times, again, there are more curious changes still.

These pieces have been examined by the X-rays, and it turns out that

the nature of the yield depends entirely on the way in which the large

crystals are set toward the line of pull. The metal gives way along the

plane of slip. If, for example, the crystal is so set--and there is no

telling during the heat and strain treatment how the forming crystal

will lie--that the layers of which we have spoken are as in Fig. 56,

then stretching will make the piece draw in sideways.

Sometimes the direction in which the crystal gives way depends on a

more complicated use of two sets of slip planes alternately. When the

crystal might slip on more than one set of planes, it is apt to choose

the one which is more nearly perpendicular to the line of pull. We can

imagine that this is so because a slip means a riding of one set of

atoms over another, and the motion would be helped by a force tending

to pull one layer away from the other. If we had a solid body made up

of a row of balls like the top layer in Fig. 57, and it rested on a

similar row like the bottom layer, it might be easier to drag the top

layer over the bottom if the line of pull were along _P_ rather

than along _Q_.

[Illustration: Fig. 57.--The top layer, as a unit, might be more easily

pulled through from position _A_, through _B_, to _C_, if the pull were

along _P_, than if it were along _Q_.]

Since (see Fig. 55) the pull always tends to bring the plane of slip

more nearly into its own line, there arises a sort of seesaw action:

the crystal slips along one set of planes until the set comes too

nearly into line with the pull, and then along another. In the end

the line of pull bisects the angle between the two sets. The balance

is often shown in the shape of the broken ends; in Plate XXVI, 3, for

example, there is a kind of knife-edge at the point of rupture. The

two sides of the edge are parallel to two different sets of slip

planes, and are equally inclined to the line of the pull which finally

tore the metal in two.

In the case of the aluminium, the yield is so easy that a sheet of some

thickness, when composed of a single crystal, can be bent quite easily

by one’s fingers. An ordinary piece of aluminium sheet is quite stiff,

however, and the explanation of the difference is that, when there are

crystals pointing in all directions, there are some ready to take and

bear the strain, no matter from what direction it comes. The strength

of a chain is that of its weakest link, and the weak part of a crystal

is its slip plane. This is a point of extraordinary importance in the

manufacture of metal, though it is often linked up with so many others

that its special effect is difficult to sort out from the rest. Many

factors go to the design of steel, let us say, for some given purpose;

but one of them is certainly the degree of fineness of the crystal

grains of which it is composed. Fineness and uniformity of size both

contribute to the toughness of steel and its quality generally.

[Illustration: PLATE XXVI.

These photographs an due to Professor Carpenter and Miss Elam

(_Proceedings of the Royal Society, A._, 100, p. 346). They show

the yielding of aluminium under strain, the part finally giving way

being a single large crystal in the narrower portion of the test piece.

In (1) and (2) the slip planes are disposed--to the observer--like the

layers of Fig. 56. The test piece has contracted sideways, and finally

developed a waist, as the picture shows. There is no thinning from back

to front. In (3) and (4) the reverse has taken place before the break:

the width has remained the same, but the material has grown thinner

(this cannot be seen in the photograph).]

When the single crystal of aluminium gives way along a layer, we may

suppose there is a moment when the one set of atoms is riding over

the other, followed by a drop into place again: _A_ goes through

_B_ into _C_ (Fig. 57). When the latter case is reached, the

close-packed arrangement is resumed. The metal is still a crystal. Now,

as we know, the regular crystalline arrangement is the natural one, and

so the substance slips easily from one natural arrangement to another,

adjusting itself to the pull or other strain by doing so. No doubt this

is one of the causes, and a very important cause, of ductility.

But why does the metal often become harder when it is beaten? And what

happens to it when it is annealed? Perhaps we are guided toward an

answer by considering what happens to gold when it is beaten into leaf

and subsequently heated. Gold leaf is very thin, as we have seen. It

is even transparent, but it absorbs part of the spectrum of light that

passes through it, allowing a greenish light to filter through. It is

yellow when viewed by reflected light, as we know. It is very curious

that when it has been heated to a dull red heat it becomes permanently

transparent, and white by reflected light. Faraday was very interested

in this fact; he suggested as a partial explanation that the thin

layer of gold broke up, the metal gathering itself together in little

heaps, and that the light went through the holes that were left. Sir

George Beilby has made many experiments, and added considerably to

the information we have in regard to the behavior of this and other

substances when heated in the same way. If there are holes in the

heated leaf, they are exceedingly small, he says, beyond the power of

the microscope to see. Now the X-rays have something to say on this

point. When gold leaf is examined by their aid, it is found that it

consists of masses of cubic crystals of gold all lying with faces

parallel to the leaf. They are not necessarily cubes, of course. They

consist, like ordinary salt, which is cubic, of rectangular blocks of

all sizes. They must be exceedingly thin blocks, and no doubt their

thickness is far less than their width or length. When the leaf has

been heated, the blocks are piled up anyhow, perhaps gathered together

to some extent in heaps, as Faraday supposed, even if they are too

small to be seen by the microscope; and perhaps this is the reason

why gold and silver leaf become transparent when heated. Why gold

should be green when looked through is a mystery. But we do see that

the beating of the gold has spread out the crystal blocks so that they

all lie with one face in the leaf surface, and that heat has destroyed

this amount of regularity of arrangement. When the heated gold leaf is

pressed with a body having a smooth, hard surface, such as an agate,

it goes back to the other condition, as we might expect, since the

pressure would force the blocks once more into the flat. In both cases

the metal is crystalline, but there is more arrangement in the usual

than in the annealed form of the gold leaf. The same effect is found

with silver. To show it in the case of copper it would be necessary to

carry out the experiment under such circumstances that the air could

not act on the metal. When copper is heated in the open, a film of

copper oxide quickly forms all over it, an action which also can be

followed by the X-rays. We often see this tarnish form slowly on copper

even when no heat is applied. But it is easy to show by X-rays that

in copper foil there is the same arrangement of the crystal block as

in the case of the gold leaf. On the other hand, a block of ordinary

copper shows no such arrangement; the crystals are arranged anyhow.

The hardening of these metals by cold working is, therefore, due in

some way to the fact that they are put into a state of strain by the

rearrangement of the crystals which the X-rays show; annealing is the

release of this strain and the destruction of the arrangement. As to

why this is so, we are still very ignorant: we can simply be satisfied

that we have made one step forward.

It is worth noting that, in general, when a metal has been thrown into

a state of strain in this way, it is more readily subject to the action

of chemicals, as we might expect. It is not so well settled into what

we may call a comfortable condition.

We ought now to go on to the consideration of other peculiarities

possessed by metals, since we may expect them all to be due to more or

less the same causes and we must study them all together. Two of their

most remarkable properties lie in their powers of conducting heat and

electricity. We all know how quickly heat spreads through a metal:

we might be inclined to say that a metal could be identified by its

possession of that property. We all know, too, how metals, especially

copper, are used as conductors of electric current.

Going back to our first consideration of the nature of the atoms,

and of the differences between the various atoms, we find at once a

feature which on the whole seems capable of giving us a satisfactory

explanation of their conducting powers; no doubt, too, it has much to

do with their crystalline structure and their ductility. The atoms of

the metals always have one or more electrons which are lightly held.

For instance, sodium has eleven electrons; two of these are very close

to the nucleus, eight more form a very strongly held system round the

first two. The odd electron belongs to an outer system altogether,

which becomes filled up as we go from sodium to magnesium with two

in the outermost system, aluminium with three, and so on. This odd

electron is not held tightly. When it is stripped off for any reason,

the atom is outwardly reduced to the form of the unsociable atom

“neon,” except that as a whole it carries a positive electric charge

due to the want of balance on loss of an electron. An aluminium

crystal is an assemblage of spheres like neon, all in close packing,

as explained, and all the odd electrons are more or less free to move

about in the structure. It must be said, however, that this picture

is doubtless much too crude to be the whole truth; there must be much

more in the design of which as yet we know nothing. Yet it must be

right to a certain extent. We see at once why metals are conductors

of electricity: it is because the electrons, the fundamental charges

of negative electricity, can move about so easily. When a current of

electricity runs along a metal wire, it is the electrons that make the

flowing stream. It is curious that they must move, being negatively

charged, in the opposite direction to that in which the so-called

current of electricity is always imagined to flow. It was always a

matter of words, this talk of a flowing current of electricity. It is

quite a new discovery that anything moves at all, and we need not be

surprised that the real direction of flow is opposite to that which had

been supposed.

So we must think of the battery or the dynamo, not as manufacturing

electricity, but as sending round a circuit a stream of the electrons

that are already there and are more or less free to move.

[Illustration: PLATE XXVII.

(By courtesy of the University of London Press, Ltd.)

Damascus blades.

(From Belaiew’s “Crystallisation of Metals.”)]

Just so the engine in a factory makes a leather belt continually travel

round a certain circuit; but the engine does not manufacture leather.

When a metal is heated, the contained electrons dance more quickly

to and fro, and may break away into the open. Electrons are pouring

in a continuous stream from the hot wire in the “valve” of wireless

telephony, and the outpouring is necessary to the action of the valve.

The electrons do not move so easily in a metal when it is hot as when

it is cold. Here again it is easy to imagine how this may be. We can

see that the electrons will have more difficulty in threading their way

among the atoms of the metal if through heat the latter are moving to

and fro and getting in their road. It is much more difficult to explain

the strange fact, discovered at Leiden by Kamerlingh Onnes, that

some substances when their temperature has been lowered to a certain

very low point--a point which differs for different metals--offer

no resistance at all to the movement of the electrons, so that a

current once started will keep on running for days before it finally

fades away, the metal being kept continuously at this extremely low

temperature.

The electrons must to some extent contribute to the capacity of a metal

for conveying heat as well as electricity, because the electrons at the

hot end of a metal bar must pass on some of their excessive energy to

the electrons at the cold.

Thus the presence of electrons in the metal, able to move with some

freedom among the atoms of the structure, gives a very good reason why

the metal conducts both heat and electricity. Of course it is only a

rough picture that we have drawn; many details require to be filled in,

and no doubt many really important facts have been left out altogether

because of our ignorance.

Let us turn back to the question of the ductility of metals, and

consider whether the presence of the electrons helps us here also.

We now see our atoms as spheres, all of them charged with positive

electricity and packed closely; and we may perhaps be right in thinking

that the electrons hold them together like a cement.

[Illustration: PLATE XXVIII.

(By courtesy of the University of London Press, Ltd.)

The long needle-shaped bodies are cementite crystals forming part

of the general mass of steel. (From Belaiew’s “Crystallisation of

Metals.”)]

But the most important point is that the atoms are not tied together by

sharing electrons as in the diamond: they must rather repel one another

than otherwise, being all charged with positive electricity. They are

free to roll or slide over one another, because they are not attached

to one another at definite points, as often occurs in other crystals.

These things seem helpful when we consider the slipping of one plane

over another.

So far we have been considering the crystalline structure and

properties of a few of the metals in the pure state. Now in practice

we meet with alloys far more often than with pure metals, and that

for the reason that alloys have properties of their own of the

greatest value. Alloys are, in fact, extraordinarily interesting in

their immense variety and in the wide range of their usefulness. New

forms are constantly being discovered. No matter what peculiar virtue

may be required for some special purpose, an alloy of some sort is

forthcoming, which satisfies the demand more or less completely. We

must try to see some reason for these things, if we can, in what we

have recently discovered. Of course, we know so little as yet, and

there is so much to explain, that in a few years’ time we may think

very little of our present attempts, but we must make a beginning.

It very often happens that the addition to a metal of quite a small

quantity of a second metal, or even a non-metal, causes a notable

improvement in hardness. Pure metals are generally very soft, because

their slip planes are so ready to give. The first of all the great

alloys was bronze, a mixture of copper and tin, which is far harder

than either metal alone. The mixture of copper and zinc produces the

serviceable brass, of which there are varying qualities, depending

on the proportions of the mixture. Steel is formed by the addition

of a small percentage of carbon to pure iron. There are alloys of

copper and aluminium, which are very tough and do not corrode, but are

difficult to work in the shaping machine. There is an alloy of copper

and nickel, which does not corrode and is easily molded; it is used

for the coverings of bullets. German silver is a white, ductile alloy,

non-corroding, which is used in the manufacture of such articles as

spoons and forks, which are afterward coated with silver in the process

known as electroplating. An alloy of nickel with chromium stands very

great heat, and is used for the wiring of electric furnaces.

[Illustration: PLATE XXIX.

(By courtesy of the University of London Press, Ltd.)

(By courtesy of Sir George Beilby.)

A. Section magnified a thousand times and showing the cementite needles

in process of being broken up and rounded off.

(From Belaiew’s “Crystallisation of Metals.”)

B. The dark band is a scratch made by a very fine needle in a polished

piece of speculum (mirror) metal, highly magnified. The fine vertical

scratches are made by emery powder in polishing. Many small particles

have been torn up and deposited in the trough made by the needle.

(From Beilby’s “Aggregation and Flow of Solids.”)]

Chromium, cobalt, and tungsten combined in definite proportions make

stellite, an extraordinarily hard, non-corroding substance; some of the

standard weights at the National Physical Laboratory are being made of

it. There are alloys for the making of bells, very soft alloys for type

metal, and a great variety of solders. There is the aluminium bronze,

which is used for cheap jewelry and consists of aluminium with a small

percentage of copper. And so on to a long list, if it were necessary to

make one.

Let us take one of the simpler cases--for example, that in which

the addition of a small quantity of aluminium to copper produces an

increase in hardness. The X-rays show that the structure of the copper

crystals remains the same, except that here and there an aluminium

atom takes the place of a copper atom. Now the weakness of the crystal

lies, as we have seen, in the fact that one part slides on another

part along a certain plane. This plane is now no longer even: there

is a scattering of aluminium atoms in it, and we can readily suppose

that the slipping has become more difficult, and that we have here

the cause of hardening.[5] There is a remarkable effect which makes us

think we are right in supposing so. The atoms of aluminium must strain

the structure of the copper crystal, because the copper will not take

up more than a certain number. If an alloy is made containing more than

about 10 per cent of aluminium, the X-rays tell us that the copper

crystals are broken up altogether, and a new structure is formed.[6]

The aluminium atoms must be distorting the copper crystal, and this

fits in very well with the fact that it hardens the copper. On the

other hand, when nickel is added to copper the atoms of the former

replace the atoms of the latter to any extent: evidently they can

slip into the places of the copper atoms without straining the copper

crystals at all. And in this case there is no hardening effect, which

is just what we should expect. It is only when we push in atoms which

really strain the copper crystal and make its planes uneven that the

hardening is brought about. We have jammed the sliding planes.

[Illustration: PLATE XXX.

In A a piece of speculum metal, after being rubbed with fine emery, has

been polished with rouged leather. The metal has been dragged over the

emery scratches; there is a reminiscence of butter spread on bread.

In B the polishing with rouge has been carried further; the emery

scratches have disappeared, but the outlines of the grains in the metal

begin to appear.

(From Sir George Beilby’s “Aggregation and Flow of Solids,” by courtesy

of the author.)]

In the case of steel the action is of the same kind, but here the

carbon atoms that are the cause of the hardening do not replace the

iron atoms, but are forced into the empty spaces between them. We

can easily see that this may distort the iron crystal, and as before

prevent the movement along a plane of slip. Once again there is a limit

to the amount of the alloying substance: only a small percentage of

carbon can be introduced into the iron without breaking up its ordinary

simple structure.

The problems of iron and steel contain, however, many more

complications than this. We have only to ask what happens when more

carbon is put in than the iron structure can carry, and we find we have

a new problem. Among other things, a new crystal appears, formed of

molecules, each containing three atoms of iron and one of carbon; it

is known as cementite. The new crystals are very hard and unyielding,

and in form are like needles (Plate XXVIII). Their presence hardens the

iron very greatly and makes it difficult to work. A beautiful example

of its effect on steel is to be found in the old swords that once made

their way from India through Damascus into Europe. Damascus steel was

greatly valued for the excellence of its qualities. Fine specimens are

to be seen in the Wallace Collection; they show the characteristic

wavy pattern (Plate XXVII) which has always been looked on as evidence

of genuineness. When examined under the microscope the lines of the

pattern are seen to consist of multitudes of dots, forming a sort of

Milky Way in the steel. These dots are the tiny crystals of cementite.

As Colonel Belaiew tells us, the steel when it was first made was most

difficult to work. The smith, with his little furnace, would heat the

steel red hot, but after he had struck but a few blows and made a

slight impression on the steel, the momentary softening had gone. The

hardness due to the cementite crystals had only been removed for an

instant. More heating, a few more blows, and slowly the steel became

less rigid. In fact, the cementite crystals were changing their form.

They were becoming less like needles, gathering themselves together

into more rounded shapes, and as they did so the steel became more

pliable (Plate XXIX a). At last the fine Damascus steel was

reached, so strong and yet so elastic.

[Illustration: PLATE XXXI.

In A the metal has been etched with acid: the “flowed” parts have been

readily attacked and removed, the grains now show up very clearly. In B

polishing has begun again.

(From Sir George Beilby’s “Aggregation and Flow of Solids,” by courtesy

of the author.)]

It is very likely that much of the keen edge that these swords would

take was due to the presence of the very hard particles embodied and

held in the softer iron. The edge would be like a saw with extremely

fine teeth. In the trial of skill between Saladin and King Richard

which Walter Scott describes in _The Talisman_, the former threw

a gossamer veil into the air and severed it by drawing his scimitar

across it, a fine test of keenness and of skill. Richard, on the other

hand, used his sword like an ax, and clove in two an iron bar, the mace

of one of his knights. This also was a test requiring great qualities

in the steel, but on the part of the man the skill lay more in the

power to strike a terrific blow than in delicacy of touch.

Grinding, sharpening, and polishing are really very interesting

operations. When we put a knife on the grindstone we let the hard

crystals in the stone cut minute furrows in the steel, actually

removing the material. This is one stage of the sharpening process.

But the polishing on the oil stone or the strop is a different thing

altogether. Here we actually make the steel to flow, smoothing down the

furrow; sometimes, as Sir George Beilby has shown, actually drawing

a skin of metal over the deeper hollows. The metal seems to remain

crystalline all the time; the X-rays show readily the crystals in a

razor blade. Probably the action is the same as that which took place

in the gold leaves when they were heated. The oil that we use helps

in the smoothing process. The metal is strained by the flow; in time

the strain tends to come undone, and heat especially can take away the

keenness of the edge (Plates XXIX b, XXX, XXXI).

An alloy is generally a much worse conductor of electricity than a pure

metal. It may well be that when the stranger atoms are forced into the

structure of the pure metal, and the planes of atoms are made uneven,

the electrons are more hampered in their passage through the metal.

More energy is required to force them along, and the metal becomes

hotter through the passage of the current than if it were pure. In the

case of a pure metal, as I have already said, the resistance to the

movement of the electrons becomes greater if the temperature is raised.

We can imagine that the electrons find it harder to get past the atoms

when the latter are more active: heat makes them move to and fro more

quickly about their proper positions.

[Illustration: PLATE XXXII.

A. The resistance of the pure metal coil in the same circuit as the

shining lamp has been reduced by surrounding it with a freezing mixture.

B. The iron wire is stretched by a hanging weight; its expansion and

contraction are magnified by the lever arrangement. The wire is heated

by passing an electric current along it.]

But heat does not make so much difference in the case of alloys,

because the passage of the electrons is already so difficult that heat

does not make much change. We can show this by a simple experiment:

A battery sends a current round a circuit which has two branches, as

in the figure (Plate XXXII a). One of them contains a coil

of copper wire, M, and a lamp, L{1}, the other a coil of an

alloy such as German silver, for example, and a lamp, L{2}.

The coils are so adjusted in respect to the resistance which they offer

to the passage of the electric current through them that the lamps

both burn dimly. A vessel containing liquid air is brought up so as

to include the coil, M, and the lamp, L{1}, at once burns

brightly. The cooling of the copper wire has lowered its resistance to

the passage of electrons, and more current flows through the lamp. But

when the alloy is, in its turn, immersed in liquid air, no change is

made.

Sometimes metals crystallize in more than one way. Iron furnishes one

of the simplest and most striking examples. At ordinary temperatures

the iron atoms are arranged so that each atom has eight neighbors. The

latter are at the corners of a tiny cube, of which the former atom

occupies the center. This is not the closest form of packing, as will

readily be found on trial. The packing of the pile of shot of which

I spoke before gives the closest packing, and in that each shot has

twelve neighbors, six touching it round an equator, and three more

round a line of latitude in each hemisphere: or, as we may put it,

six in its own layer and three in each of the next layers. It is the

packing of gold, silver, copper, and aluminium. It is very curious that

when iron is heated to a cherry red the atoms change their arrangement

and pack in the tightest form, that of the pile of shot. The effect

is easiest to see when an iron wire is heated beyond this point and

allowed to cool. When it comes to the critical temperature, the atoms

suddenly adopt the looser packing and the wire stretches a little: the

increase of length is easily observed by the use of some magnifying

device. It is very curious, too, that when the old form changes to the

new, some energy is set free and the iron suddenly brightens up again.

The stretching and brightening have long been matters of observation,

but it is only quite recently that we have discovered that the packing

of the atoms into two different crystalline forms is at the bottom of

what we have seen (Plate XXXII b).

These very few instances of the relation between the properties of a

metal and its crystal structure are drawn from an immense subject,

most of it still waiting exploration with our new helpers, the X-rays.

We cannot say beforehand what will be found out. We can be very sure,

however, that the better we understand our materials the better use we

can make of them.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: See “The Legacy of Rome” (Oxford University Press), p.

270--an article by Dr. Singer.]

[Footnote 2: From a Friday Evening Discourse before the Royal

Institution of Great Britain, March 4th, 1881.]

[Footnote 3: For lecture purposes the working of the apparatus is

illustrated by a kinematograph film which has been made for the

purpose. It shows a series of successive expansions, each forming a new

set of lines like those shown in Plate III.]

[Footnote 4: C. V. Boys, “Soap Bubbles and the Forces Which Mold Them.”]

[Footnote 5: Rosenhain, “The Inner Structure of Alloys,” Institute of

Metals, May 2, 1923.]

[Footnote 6: Jette. Phragmen, and Westgren, Institute of Metals, March,

1921.]

NOTE

AFTER trials of many ways of making models of atomic structure and of

many substances I find that two have real merits:--

Balls representing the atoms may be made of hard dentists’ wax, which

softens in boiling water and can then be pressed into proper shape in

metal molds made for the purpose, just as we used to remake our golf

balls in the old days. The spherical mold is made in two halves; and

it is convenient to mount them in the lathe, one on the head and one

on the back center. Small balls harden at once, and can be made very

quickly: larger balls must be left a little while in the mold. The hard

wax can be drilled without becoming softened and deformed by the heat

generated in drilling. The models made of the wax are very finished in

appearance, and will stand all ordinary temperatures. The wax is rather

costly.

Gramophone needles make good connectors, the balls, wax or wood, being

drilled to receive them. The holes should be drilled true and in

correct position. Convenient little contrivances can be made to be used

for this purpose on the lathe.

THE END

=TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES=

A list of figures has been included to enhance readability.

Parentheses were applied to chemical compounds to prevent confusion

with italicized text in the transcribed version.

Concerning the nature of things · 第 6 / 6 章