Popular Science Monthly/Volume 46/November 1894/The Chemistry of Cleaning
By Prof. VIVIAN LEWES.
AS a great city grows, and the agglomeration of struggling humanity increases, such questions as the disposal of sewage and other waste matter rise from comparative insignificance into problems of almost insurmountable difficulty; and while we are able to put the burden of cleansing our towns upon the urban authorities, the responsibility of keeping our homes and bodies in a condition of at least sanitary cleanliness devolves upon the individual, and a knowledge of the causes of dirt and the methods by which it can be removed can not be regarded as devoid of interest, or at any rate of utility.
Observation shows that in our town houses only a very short interval of time is needed to cause a considerable deposit of dust upon any horizontal surface, while vertical surfaces and draperies, especially if their surface be rough, also accumulate a perceptible quantity, although of a lighter and more finely divided kind. We also find that this dust is borne to its resting place by the air which penetrates from the outer atmosphere, and that its deposition is caused by the comparative condition of rest insured to it by the absence of wind or violent currents.
The presence of these air-borne particles of solid matter can be made visible in any town by allowing a beam of sunlight or a ray from an electric lantern to pass through the air of a darkened room. If the room be filled with air previously filtered by passing it through cotton wool, the beam of light is invisible until it strikes the opposite wall; but if the air be unfiltered, the path of the beam is mapped out by the suspended matter reflecting and dispersing portions of it, and so becoming visible to the eye as "the motes in the sunbeam." The heavier the nature of the particles the more quickly will they settle, with the result that the dust on horizontal surfaces, such as the tops of sideboard, piano, and mantel-board, may be expected to differ somewhat from the lighter form, which has continued to float until contact with vertical surfaces has brought it to rest.
These particles of dust are composed of matters of the most varied nature, and will be found, when collected, to consist partly of mineral and partly of organic substances.
The heavier portions of the dust are found to contain ground-up siliceous matter, pulverized by traffic in the road; small particles of salt carried inland by winds from the sea, together with sulphate of soda, with other impurities of a local character. If a sample of dust be collected and carefully ignited, the organic matter will be burned away and any ammonium salts volatilized, while the mineral portion will be unacted upon; and in this way it has been shown that more than one half of the suspended matters in the air are of organic origin, a large portion of this organic matter consisting of germs which are capable of setting up fermentation, disease, and decay.
It is only within the last few years that the importance of the work done by the solid particles of dust floating in the air has been recognized, and it is to Pasteur that we owe the knowledge that these germs set up the various processes of organic decay, by which the waste matter derived from vegetable sources is once again resolved into the water vapor and carbon dioxide used by Nature as the foundation of all organic creations. It is the almost imperceptible germs floating in the air which start this marvelous natural action—germs so minute that it requires the strongest microscope to detect them, yet so potent that the whole balance of life hangs on their existence. These facts show us that not only has dust a most marvelous history, but that in it Nature has disguised her most important factor for cleaning the face of the earth from waste matter of both mineral and vegetable origin.
The surface soil when mixed with water gives the mud which dirties our boots, and forms clots on the train of our skirts; but this, as well as the dust which has settled in our living rooms, and merely clings mechanically to the surfaces upon which it has deposited, may be removed by such simple physical means as the duster and brush. When dust has found its way into a fabric such as a carpet, it requires considerable force to again dislodge it, and this is applied by means of the broom; but in vigorous sweeping we find that the largest proportion of the dust is driven up into the air, only to resettle once again on other surfaces, so that although we can make the nuisance "move on," we do not in this way remove it, and experience has taught our servants that wet tea-leaves scattered on the carpet before sweeping lessen this evil. In some cases, instead of using this method, it has been argued that it must be the moisture which acts in preventing the raising of the dust, and the carpet has been sprinkled with water. This converts the dust into mud, which remains fixed in the fabric while the sweeping is going on, but as soon as the water has evaporated from it, again reasserts its right of rising as dust.
When, however, wet tea-leaves, damp sawdust, or even moistened sand is scattered over the surface to be swept, the dust when dislodged adheres to the moistened substance and is removed. In choosing moist bodies for this purpose, the only points to consider are that they must have no staining action on the carpet, must not be too wet, and must not be so finely grained as to sink into the fabric, nor so clinging as to resist easy removal by the broom.
It is manifest, however, that the mechanically held dirt which we have been considering differs very considerably from the dirt on our skins, and on linen in contact with our bodies, which, although derived from the same sources as the dust on the furniture, resists any ordinary mechanical process for its removal, and rinsing dirty hands or linen in cold water has but little cleaning effect, while if the hands are afterward dried in the usual way a transfer of a portion of dirt to the towel takes place. If we carefully notice the portions of our skin and shirt which become most soiled, we at once observe that it is where the skin is exposed to air, while the linen, which is in contact with both air and skin, becomes dirty more quickly than when exposed to either alone.
The part played by the atmosphere is made clear by the facts which we have already been considering, but the action of the skin introduces a new and most important factor. For the healthy carrying on of the functions of life, nothing exceeds in importance the skin with which our body is covered. We may live for days without giving our stomach any work to do, the liver may cease action for several days before death ensues, but it is impossible to survive for the same length of time if the functions of the skin are entirely stopped. The skin not only plays an important part in throwing off and getting rid of waste matter from the system, but it is also credited with being an important auxiliary to our lungs; and experiments have clearly shown that if the skin of animals be coated in such a way as to completely stop its action, a very few hours will bring about death.
If we examine the structure of the skin, we find that it is built up of two distinct layers, an outer skin called the cuticle or epidermis, and an inner termed the cutis or dermis. A third layer intermediate between these two used to be looked upon as a third skin, but more recently has been recognized as being only a transition form-of the outer skin. The cuticle or outer skin consists of several fine layers of scales which gradually assume a more rounded and granular form the deeper one gets into the cuticle. These rounded granules form the middle skin of the old observers, and as the outer portion of the cuticle roughens and scales off as scurf, these granules gradually flatten and form the new surface to the outer skin; and we differ therefore from other scaly reptiles by being continually in a condition of renewing our skin, while most reptiles and fish cast their scaly covering in one operation.
No nerves or blood-vessels find their way into this outer skin, as may be seen when it becomes detached from the inner skin in the formation of a blister, the outer portion of which is devoid of sensation. The lower or true skin varies in thickness, being thicker in the palm of the hand and sole of the foot, where most resistance is needed. When we look at the skin of the hand, we notice delicate grooves in it, which, examined through a magnifying glass, are seen to be pierced with small orifices; and if the hand be warm, minute shining drops of perspiration will be seen issuing from them.
The glands for the secretion of the perspiration are set in the lower side of the inner skin and are in connection with the capillary network of blood-vessels which cover the surface of the body. The gland or duct which conducts the perspiration to the surface of the skin is about a quarter of an inch in length, and is straight in the true skin, but becomes spiral while traversing the outer skin. Over thirty-five hundred of these small ducts have been found to exist in a single square inch of the skin, and it has been computed that the aggregate length of the sudoriferous ducts in the body of an ordinary-sized man is about twenty-eight miles. These little glands and ducts perform the important function of throwing off the moisture produced during the combustion of waste tissue by the blood-borne oxygen of the body, and secrete about twenty-three ounces of perspiration in the twenty-four hours, which under ordinary conditions evaporates, without our noticing it, into the air, but under conditions of considerable exertion or unusual heat accumulates as beads of perspiration.
The throwing off of the perspiration and its evaporation on the skin is a beautiful natural contrivance for regulating the temperature of the body, as the conversion of the perspiration into vapor renders latent an enormous amount of heat, which, being principally derived from the body, keeps it in a comparative state of coolness even when subjected to high temperatures.
In the twenty-three ounces of liquid so secreted in the course of the twenty-four hours there will be found rather more than an ounce of solid matter, which is left when the liquid portion of the perspiration evaporates, and tends to clog the pores of the skin, and it is the removal of this by the morning tub and rough towel which is responsible for a considerable portion of the refreshing influence of the bath.
Besides these sudoriferous glands, however, there is a second set, called the sebaceous glands, the ducts of which are spiral, and open generally into little pits, out of which the fine hairs which stud the skin grow, and these glands secrete an oily or waxy substance, which nourishes the hair, and also keeps the outer skin smooth and pliant. This waxy substance is developed in largest quantity inside the ear, where it serves to protect the more delicate portions of that organ; and, next to the ear, these glands are found most abundantly on the face and other portions of the body which are exposed to external influences and friction.
It is the presence of this oily secretion which holds the dirt glued to the skin, and being also rubbed off on the inside of the wristbands and collars of our shirts, causes these portions of our linen to become the most soiled. We may look upon this form of dirt, therefore, as being glued on to the surface by oleaginous materials, which being insoluble in water resist any mere rinsing; and the most important function of our cleansing materials is to provide a solvent which shall be able to loosen the oil, and so allow of the removal of dirt from the skin. The skin, however, is not the only source of oily matter, and in all fibers of animal origin more or less fat is to be found, which, although not in sufficient quantity to play any very important part in the fixation of dirt, still adds its iota to the general result.
We notice, moreover, that the air of a big town has a far greater dirtying effect than country air, this being partly due to the fact that the number of solid particles per cubic foot of atmosphere are greatly increased, but chiefly because country air does not contain certain products of incomplete combustion, which are to be found in all large towns. In London we annually consume some six million tons of bituminous coals, and if we examine the smoke which escapes up our chimney during the imperfect combustion which the coals undergo in our fire grates, we find that not only will that smoke contain small particles of unconsumed carbon in the form of blacks or soot, but also a considerable quantity of the vapor of condensible hydrocarbon oils, which, depositing on the surface of the solid particles of floating dirt, gives them an enhanced power of clinging to any surface with which they come in contact.
Hydrocarbon oils of this character are not as a rule affected by the solvents which we utilize for loosening the dirt which is held to our skin by animal grease; but there is no doubt that the dirtying influence of town air is greatly increased by their presence.
If we take any grease of vegetable or animal origin, we find that it can be dissolved in liquids containing free alkalies, this term being applied to the compounds formed by water with the soluble metallic oxides, which, when dissolved in water, give solutions having a soaplike taste, affecting the color of vegetable extracts, such as that obtained by the red cabbage, and possessing the power of neutralizing the acidulous properties of the compounds we call acids.
If we take two metals discovered by Sir Humphry Davy in 1807—potassium and sodium—and expose them to dry, pure air, they rapidly become converted into a white powder by absorbing oxygen from the atmosphere, and form compounds which we term respectively oxide of sodium and oxide of potassium. These oxides, when dissolved in water, enter into combination with a portion of it, producing sodic hydrate and potassic hydrate, two substances which have pre-eminently the properties which we term alkaline, and which exert a strong solvent action upon all forms of animal and vegetable grease. These solutions exercise a wonderful power of cleansing upon the grease-bound particles of dirt which veil our skin, but so strong is their solvent power upon animal membrane, that not only do they dissolve fatty matter, but also the cuticle itself, so that they are manifestly unfitted for removing dirt from a tender skin, and we are forced to look further afield for a grease solvent.
If instead of dissolving our sodic and potassic oxide in water we had left them exposed to ordinary air, we should have found that they gradually attracted from the atmosphere a gas called carbon dioxide, which exists in all air to the extent of four parts in ten thousand, and that by combining with this gas they became converted into sodic and potassic carbonates, bodies which we call salts, and which, although not so violent in their action upon the skin, will retain to a certain extent their solvent action on fatty matters.
The carbonates of sodium and potassium are found in the ashes of many vegetable and animal substances, and in the earliest records which have been discovered we find mention of the cleansing power of wood ashes, the ashes of certain marine plants, seaweed, and "natron," which is an alkaline efflorescence from some kinds of soil; nor has the use of ashes for this purpose entirely died out at the present time.
As early as a. d. 69, however, we find that the elder Pliny mentions another form of cleansing material made from tallow and ashes, the components most recommended being goat's suet and the ash of beech wood; while the ruins of Pompeii were found to contain a fairly perfect soap factory.
Although soap and Christianity date from the same period, it was only at the commencement of this century that the classical researches of Chevreul on the constitution of fats gave the key to the reactions taking place during its formation, while even at the present time we probably only know a true explanation of part of the actions which lead to its cleansing effect upon the skin.
If we take sulphuric acid diluted with water, we find that it has certain well-marked characteristics which leave no room for doubting its acidulous nature; and if we pour a few drops of it into the violet-colored solution obtained by boiling sliced red cabbage in water, the violet solution at once becomes bright red. On repeating this experiment with the violet cabbage solution and a few drops of sodic hydrate solution, we obtain a vivid green color; and now on mixing the solution rendered red by the acid, and the second one turned green by the alkaline base, we once more obtain the original violet color, and on examining the solution can find no trace of either acid or alkali, but can distinguish the presence of a compound called sodic sulphate, which can be obtained in the crystalline form by concentrating the solution, and such a compound formed by the union of an acid and a base we are in the habit of calling a salt. During the combination of the sulphuric acid and sodic hydrate to form sodic sulphate, we also had water being formed, which, like the neutral salt, had no action upon our colored solution. If we had carefully weighed our sulphuric acid and the sodic hydrate, we should have found that it is only in certain definite proportions that they unite to give a solution without effect on the vegetable coloring matter.
One of Chevreul's greatest discoveries was that in tallow—the fat of oxen or sheep—you had a salt of organic origin, from which, by decomposing the tallow with heated steam, you could obtain the sweet viscous liquid "glycerin," which played the part of base in the compound, and two acidulous compounds—one a lustrous white wax, called stearic acid, and the other an oil called oleic acid.
Now a salt can have its base replaced by another base. If I take two solutions, the one containing sulphate of copper and the other chloride of iron, and add to each sodic hydrate, decomposition takes place in each case, sodic sulphate is left in solution, and the hydrates of copper and iron being insoluble in water, separate out as precipitates. In the same way, if we add sodic hydrate to tallow, glycerin separates out, and two salts—sodic oleate and sodic stearate—are formed, a process which we call saponification, as the two sodium salts are "soaps."
It is not necessary to use tallow; any vegetable or animal fat or oil will give reactions of a similar character, and it may be broadly stated that soap is formed by the action of sodic or potassic hydrate upon fats or oils which contain fatty acids.
It is only potassic and sodic hydrates which can be used for ordinary soap-making, as the soaps formed by the combination of other metallic hydrates with the fatty acids are insoluble in water, and therefore useless for detergent purposes. The soap formed by using sodic hydrate has the property of setting hard, and all the ordinary forms of washing-soap contain sodium as the base. The potash soaps are far softer, and do not set; the soft soap used for scrubbing and cleansing in many manufacturing processes, and also a few toilet creams and shaving pastes, being of this character.
It would occupy far too much time, and would, moreover, be outside the scope of this lecture, to go into the details of the manufacturing methods by which soap is made on the large scale, and if I give a rough idea of the general processes employed it will be sufficient for the purpose.
Carbonate of soda is first converted into hydrate by dissolving it in water and then boiling with quicklime. Quicklime consists of calcic oxide, and this, when put into the vat containing the sodic carbonate in solution, combines with water, forming calcic hydrate, which then reacts with the sodic carbonate, forming calcic carbonate or chalk, which being insoluble sinks as a mud to the bottom of the vessel, while sodic hydrate remains in solution.
The solution of sodic hydrate, called caustic lye, is made in different strengths, and tallow is first boiled with a weak lye, and as the conversion into soap proceeds, so stronger lyes are used until the whole of the fatty matter has been saponified. If a strong lye had been used at first, the soap as it formed being insoluble in strong alkalies would have coated the surface of the fat and prevented its complete conversion.
If at the end of the saponification process the alkaline solution is sufficiently strong, the soap will, on standing, separate as a fluid layer on the surface of the spent lye, which contains the glycerin set free during the saponification; but in any case separation can be rapidly brought about by adding salt to the liquid, when the soap, being insoluble in salt water or brine, separates out and is removed and placed in molds to harden. The block of soap so cast is then cut first into slabs and then again into bars. A soap made in this way with tallow or lard as the fatty matter would be "white curd," while if yellow bar is required, rosin is added to the mixture of lye and soap after most of the fat has saponified.
When rosin is boiled with alkaline solutions, a compound is formed by the direct union of the resinous acids with the alkali, which strongly resembles ordinary soap, so that the yellow soap is really a mixture of fatty and rosin soap, and when the ingredients are of great purity the product goes by the name of "primrose" soap. Bar soaps so made on a large scale are, as a rule, the stock from which the various forms of toilet soap are made by processes intended to render them more attractive for personal use, but generally the consumer gets far better value for his money, and far less injury to his skin, by using a good "white curd" or "primrose" soap than by employing a high-priced toilet soap, while cheap toilet soaps, especially cheap transparent soaps, should be studiously avoided.
The demand made by consumers for cheap soaps, which in many cases are sold retail at prices considerably below the wholesale market price for a true soap, has given rise to the introduction of highly watered soaps, caused to set hard by the addition during manufacture of sodic sulphate, which enables the manufacturer to make a so-called soap often containing less than twenty per cent of true soap.
Having got our soap, the next point is to try and gain an idea of the way in which it acts as a detergent. Supposing we are fortunate enough to have a sample of pure neutral soap, we find that, on dissolving some of it in water, it undergoes a partial decomposition into alkali and fatty acid, this action being called the hydrolysis of soap. The small quantity of alkali so set free attacks the fatty matter which glues the dirt to the skin, and by dissolving it loosens and enables the water to wash off the particles of dirt. If this were the only action, however, soap would have no advantage over soda, a solution of which would equally well perform this part of the operation. As the soap decomposes and the alkali removes the grease and dirt, the fatty acid liberated simultaneously from the soap comes in contact with the newly cleansed skin, and not only softens and smooths it, but also neutralizes any trace of free alkali, and so prevents irritation and reddening of the cuticle.
These are probably the main actions by which soap cleanses, but other causes also play a subsidiary part. We know that a solution of soap causes a lather when agitated, this being due to the cohesive power given to the particles of which the liquid is built up by the presence of the soap a phenomenon which also enables us to blow bubbles with the soap solution on account of the strength of the fine film of liquid—a property which is not found in water alone.
The power of cohesion which the soap solution possesses is in all probability an important factor in removing the particles of dirt from the skin at the moment that they are loosened by the action of the alkali. Prof. W. Stanley Jevons suggested yet a fourth way in which the soap solution might act: when finely divided clay is suspended in water, the microscope reveals the fact that the minute particles are in rapid movement, and hence settle but slowly in the liquid. This movement he christened pedetic action, and he observed that the addition of soap or silicate of soda—often used in soap—to the liquid enormously increased this agitation of the particles, which would tend to aid the breaking away of the dirt particles the moment they were set free.
Many soaps, even among the varieties intended for the toilet, contain a considerable excess of free alkali, which, being greater than the liberated fatty acids can neutralize, causes most painful irritation of the skin, as is testified by the smarting which annoys the chin after the use of certain shaving soaps; and every lady knows that an alkaline soap, when used for washing the hair, renders it harsh and brittle, and destroys the gloss; but a rapid rinse with water containing a few drops of vinegar will neutralize the free alkali and prevent much of the mischief.
We have now dealt with our grease solvents and dirt looseners, but without the aid of water they would be useless; and experience teaches us that the source of the water used for cleansing has a great deal to do with its efficiency.
As the newborn raindrops fall from the breaking clouds, they are practically pure water, containing at most traces of gaseous impurities which the mist has dissolved from the upper strata of air while journeying in the form of cloud, and where the rain is collected in the open country, it gives us the purest form of natural water healthful to drink, because it is highly aërated, and free from all impurity, organic and inorganic, and delightful to wash in because of its softness and the ease with which the soap gives a lather.
In towns, however, a very different state of things exists, as the rain in falling washes the air from a large proportion of the suspended organic matters inseparable from a crowded city, and also from the unburned particles of carbon, which incomplete combustion allows to escape from our chimneys; and charged with these, it still collects more dirt of various kinds from the roofs of our houses, and finally finds its way into our water-butts as the semiputrid sludge which often causes the true-bred cockney to wonder "if this so-called purest form of natural water is so foul, what on earth must the other forms of water be like?" If in the country the rain water is collected and stored in suitable reservoirs, then we have the most perfect water that can be obtained for washing and cleansing purposes.
In the passage of the rain through the air small quantities of carbon dioxide or carbonic-acid gas are dissolved from the atmosphere, while in slowly percolating through the surface soil on which it has fallen the water is brought in contact in the pores of the soil with far larger volumes of this gas, which is being continually generated there by the decomposing vegetation and other organic matter in a state of decay. Under these circumstances the water becomes highly charged with the gas, and sinks on through the ground until it comes in contact with some impermeable strata through which it can not penetrate, and here it collects until a sufficient head of water has been formed for it to force its way along the strata to the surface of the earth, where it now appears as a spring, and during this passage through the earth it has dissolved everything that will yield to its own solvent action or to the activity of the carbon dioxide, which dissolved in water forms the weak carbonic acid, a compound which will dissolve many substances insoluble in the water itself, such as calcic carbonate, occurring in the soil as marble, limestone, or chalk. and also the carbonates of iron and magnesium. If we examine a spring water, we shall find that its dissolved impurities can be divided into two classes: for instance, taking the Kent water supplied at Greenwich, and obtained from deep wells in the chalk, we find its saline constituents in grains per gallon are:
And of these the calcic sulphate, magnesium, and sodium salts are dissolved by the solvent action of the water in the same way that sugar would be, while the chief impurity, calcic carbonate, is scarcely at all soluble in the water itself, 16,000 parts of pure water only dissolving one part of the carbonate, but is readily soluble in the carbonic acid, in the water which converts it into soluble calcic bicarbonate.
In the household, waters are roughly classified as hard or soft waters, and the property of hardness manifests itself, as a rule, to the householder by its action upon soap, and also by the amount of "fur" which it causes in the kettle, these actions being due to calcic bicarbonate, calcic sulphate, and the magnesium salts present in it, all of which act upon soap and cause it to curd instead of forming a lather by converting the soluble sodic oleate and stearate into insoluble lime salts, while the bicarbonate by decomposing and depositing "chalk" causes the fur.
A more careful examination, however, reveals the fact that this property of hardness owes its origin to two different causes; for if we boil water until all the bicarbonate is broken up and the calcic carbonate deposited, the clear water left behind it is yet hard, though to a far less extent, and will still decompose a certain proportion of soap. The hardness which can be got rid of by boiling is due to bicarbonate of lime, and sometimes also bicarbonate of magnesia, and is called "temporary hardness," while the hardness left after boiling the water is due to calcic sulphate and the soluble magnesium sulphate, chloride and nitrate, and is called "permanent hardness."
The relative hardness of waters is estimated by the amount of soap they will destroy—i. e., convert from the form of soluble sodic oleate and stearate into the condition of insoluble oleates and stearates of lime; and one grain of calcic carbonate, or its equivalent in sulphate or salts of magnesia, dissolved in a gallon of water, is said to equal 1° of hardness.