on one side, and the paper on the other, whence it is dexterously taken up with an instrument in the form of a T, three sheets at a time, and hung on lines to dry. There it hangs for a week or ten days, which likewise further whitens it; and any knots and roughness it may have are. picked off carefully by the women. It is then sized. Size is a kind of glue; and without this preparation the paper would not bear ink: it would run and blot as you see it does on grey paper. The sheets are just dipped into the size and taken out again. The exact degree of sizing is a matter of nicety, which can only be known by experience. They are then hung up again to dry, and when dry taken to the finishing-room, where they are examined anew, pressed in the dry-presses, which gives them their last gloss and smoothness; counted up into quires, made up into reams, and sent to the stationer's, from whom we have it, after he has folded it again and cut the edges; some too he makes to shine like satin, by glossing it with hot plates. The whole process of paper-making takes about three weeks. H. It is a very curious process, indeed. I shall almost scruple for the future to blacken a sheet of paper with a careless scrawl, now I know how much pains it costs to make it so white and beautiful. F. It is true that there is hardly anything we use with so much waste and profusion as this manufacture; we should think ourselves confined in the use of it, if we might not tear, disperse, and destroy it in a thousand ways; so that it is really astonishing whence linen enough can be procured to answer so vast a demand. As to the coarse brown papers, of which an astonishing quantity is used by every shopkeeper in packages, &c., these are made chiefly of oakum, that is, old hempen ropes. In China a fine paper is made of silk. L H. I have heard lately of woven paper; pray what is that? They cannot weave paper, surely? F. Your question is very natural. In order to answer it, I must desire you to take a sheet of common paper, and hold it up against the light. Do you not see some marks in it? H. I see a great many white lines running along lengthways, like ribs, and smaller that cross them. I see, too, letters and the figure of a crown. F. These are all the marks of the wires; the thickness of the wires prevents so much of the pulp lying upon the sheets in those places, consequently wherever the wires are the paper is thinner, and you see the light through more readily, which gives that appearance of white lines. The letters too are worked in the wire, and are the maker's name. Now to prevent these lines which take off from the beauty of the paper, particularly of drawing paper, there have been used moulds of brass wire, exceedingly fine, of equal thickness, and woven or latticed one within another; the marks therefore of these are easily pressed out, so as to be hardly visible; if you look at this sheet you will see it is quite smooth. H. It is so. F. I should mention to you, that there is a discovery very lately made, by which they can make paper equal to any in whiteness of the coarsest brown rags, and even of dyed cottons; which they have till now been obliged to throw by for inferior purposes. This is by means of manganese, a sort of mineral, and oil of vitriol; a mixture of which they just pass through the pulp while it is in water, for otherwise it would burn it, and it in an instant discharges the colours of the dyed cloths, and bleaches the brown to a beautiful whiteness. H. That is like what you told me before of bleaching cloth in a few hours. F. It is indeed founded upon the same discovery. The paper made of these brown rags is likewise more valuable, from being very tough and strong, almost like parchment. Also a good deal of paper is now made of straw. H. When was the making of paper found out? F. It is a disputed point, but probably in the fourteenth century. The invention has been almost equal to that of printing itself; and shows how the arts and sciences, like children of the same family, assist each other. They are then hung up again to dry, and when dry taken to the finishing-room, where they are examined anew, pressed in the dry-presses, which gives them their last gloss and smoothness; counted up into quires, made up into reams, and sent to the stationer's, from whom we have it, after he has folded it again and cut the edges; some too he makes to shine like satin, by glossing it with hot plates. The whole process of paper-making takes about three weeks. THE VILLAGE PREACHER. NEAR yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place; More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; At church, with meek and unaffected grace, With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; And plucked his gown to share the good man's smile. |