containing water, fixed over the mixing vessel.
At a high pressure, which is maintained also by
the forcing of the same gas within the mixing
vessel, the water in the cylinder is supersaturated
with gas—is made, in fact, into soda-water
free from soda. In that state it is then
allowed to flow through a pipe over the due
relative proportions of flour and salt, under the
highly-condensed atmosphere of the closed
mixer. The mixer is a hollow globe of cast
iron, in which iron arms are made to revolve on
aii axis turned by the steam-engine. The gas
remains fixed, still under pressure in the water.
In three or four minutes, or more, according to
the quality of the flour, the mixture of the flour
with the soda-water is complete. The paste
then passes out through a tube gradually widening,
and the gas expands in every pore of the
dough, not breaking out of the decomposed
flour, but out of the water, as the pressure is
removed. The dough instantly rises as it passes
into the tins, or wooden measures, which a boy
holds under the spout, cutting off the measure
of each loaf as it descends, and immediately
placing it on the edge of the oven, which is on
the other side of him. The floor of the oven is
an endless chain, revolving on two drums, of
which the pace is regulated in accordance with
the size and character of the bread to be baked.
The loaves placed on one edge of the oven
immediately begin to travel through its regulated
heat, and in due time are turned out exactly
baked upon the other side, close to the open
door, at which carts wait to carry the loaves to
the shopkeepers. Until the bread is baked not
a hand touches it.

An hour and a half is time enough for the
conversion, by this process, of a sack of flour
into baked loaves, perfectly spongy and with the
nutritive elements of the flour wholly untouched.
In the ordinary process, four or five hours are
required for the mere raising of the sponge.
This prolonged action of the warmth and
moisture upon many kinds of flour—as flour from
wheat gathered in wet seasons—otherwise
wholesome, changes the starchy matter into dextrine,
and after all produces bread dark coloured and
sodden. It is to correct so great an occasion of
uncertainty and loss, which has always prevented
capitalists from embarking in the baking trade,
that alum has been used. The rapidity of the
new aërating process wholly avoids this risk;
the result never is uncertain; and good bread
can be made of flour otherwise almost useless to
the baker. The unfermented, or, as it is properly
called, the aërated bread, made according to
Dr. Danglish's patent, being entirely free from
the acid which is always necessarily present in
fermented bread, has been found actually curative
in that numerous class of diseases which
result from acid secretions or an acid state of
the blood. This freedom from acid causes the
bread at first to appear somewhat insipid, but it
soon asserts its value. One of the most eminent
of our physicians kept a loaf of it for a fortnight,
and then caused it to appear at his breakfast-
table with a baker's loaf of the previous day.
The unfermented loaf, old as it was, appeared to
be the fresher of the two. Experience has
shown that working men who use the aërated
bread eat more of it—sometimes even half as
much again—making hearty breakfasts, and
being at dinner time less hungry for meat.

At Guy's Hospital the patients have always
their quantity of bread by weight duly
prescribed. Fermented bread of the best quality is
used, made in the hospital to ensure its being
good. Of the quantity supplied to the wards
there is gathered every day a large surplus
which the patients have been unable to consume.
For about two months two of the wards were
supplied, by way of experiment, with aërated
bread in the usual quantities. One remarkable
result was, that from these wards there was
never any surplus to be collected. The sick
stomachs never turned against it. The use of
aërated bread tends rather, therefore, to the
increase of the baker's, and the decrease of the
butcher's, bill. Its actual price is that of
ordinary bread, but as its manufacture demands
costly machinery, it can be sold only in the
shops of bakers or corn-dealers as books are
sold by the booksellers after the publishing firms
have produced them. We believe that the art
of bread-making as thus perfected will eventually
supersede the old hand and foot labour upon the
dough, and the old practice of decomposing the
bread itself to procure the gas that is to lighten
it. But we do not believe that the change will
be prejudicial to the interests of a trade that in
its present state seems to be one of the least
profitable and the most unhealthy that a man
can follow.

We do not speak unadvisedly, when we refer
to the unwholesomeness of the trade in
fermented bread. We are told that "as matters
stand there is no help for it," and this may be
true. Ten years ago, vigorous efforts were made
to secure improvement in the condition of the
journeyman bakers, but they were fruitless.
With the best will in the world, the master
bakers found it impossible to bring their trade
within the rules of health. Some who abandoned
nightwork have found the return to it unavoidable.
In a paper read two months ago at the
last meeting of the "National Association for
the Promotion of Social Science," we are still
told the old terrible story. Except persons who
are employed in bleach works, no class of men
suffer toil so destructive as that of the makers
of fermented bread in London and some of our
large provincial towns. Very many of these
men work night and day. Beginning at eleven
o'clock on Sunday night, they go on until four
o'clock on Monday afternoon; while others
sleep they must prepare the dough. During
the fermentation they may snatch rest for an
hour or an hour and a half on the boards of the
bakehouse, not daring to commit themselves to
the sound sleep for which nature yearns, lest they
should oversleep themselves and spoil the bread.
In the morning they have to carry about a weight
of baked bread to the out-door customers. So
the week runs, every night and day, till Thursday;