and vegetable substances, and have usually the colour which they intend to give to the cloth. Since the particles of colouring matter with which cloth, when dyed, is covered, are transparent, it follows, that all the light reflected from dyed cloth must be reflected, not by the dye stuff itself, but by the fibres of the cloth below the dye stuff. The colour therefore does not depend upon the dye alone, but also upon the previous colour of the cloth. If the cloth be black, it is clear that we cannot dye it any other colour whatever; because as no light in that case is reflected, none can be transmitted, whatever dye stuff we employ. If the cloth were red, or blue, or yellow, we could not dye it any colour except black; be. cause, as only red, or blue, or yellow rays were reflected, no other could be transmitted. Hence the importance of a fine white colour, when cloth is to receive bright dyes. It then reflects all the rays in abundance, and therefore any colour may be given, by covering it withi a dye stuff which transmits only some particular rays. If the colouring matters were merely spread over the surface of the fibres of cloth by the dyer, the colours produced might be very bright, but they could not be permanent; because the colouring matter would be very soon rubbed off; and would totally disappear when. ever the cloth was washed, or even barely exposed to the weather. The colouring matter then, however perfect a colour it possesses, is of no value, unless it also adheres so firmly to the cloth that none of the substances usually applied to cloth, in order to clean it, &c. can displace it. Now this can only happen, when there is a strong affinity between the colouring matter and the cloth, and when they are actu. ally combined together in consequence of that affinity. Dyeing then is merely a chemical process, and consists in combining a certain colouring matter with fibres of cloth. This process can in no instance be performed, unless the dye stuff be first reduced to its integrant particles; for the attraction of aggregation between the particles of dye stuffs is too great to be overcome by the affinity between them and the cloth unless they could be brought within much smaller distances than is possible while they both remain in a solid form. It is necessary, therefore, previously to dissolve the colouring matter in some liquid or other, which has a weaker affinity for it than the cloth has. When the cloth is dipped into this solution, the colouring matter, reduced by this contrivance to a liquid state, is brought within the attracting distance; the cloth therefore acts upon it, and from its stronger affinity, takes it from the solvent, and fixes it upon itself. By this contrivance too, the equality of the colour is in some measure secured, as every part of the cloth has an opportunity of attracting to itself the proper proportion of colouring particles. The facility with which cloth imbibes a dye, depends upon two things; namely, the affinity between the cloth and the dye stuff, and the affinity between the dye stuff and its solvent. It is directly as the former, and inversely as the latter. It is of importance to preserve a due proportion between these two affinities, as upon that proportion much of the accuracy of dyeing depends. If the affinity between the colouring matter and the cloth be too great, compared with the affinity between the colouring matter and the solvent, the cloth will take the F 3 dye dye too rapidly, and it will be scarcely possible to prevent its colour from being unequal. On the other hand, if the affinity between the colouring matter and the solvent be too great, compared with that between the colouring matter and the cloth, the cloth will either not take the colour at all, or it will take it very slowly and very faintly. Wool has the strongest affinity for almost all colouring matters, silk the next strongest, cotton a considerably weaker affinity, and li. nen the weakest affinity of all. Therefore in order to dye cotton or linen, the dye stuff should in many cases be dissolved in a substance for which it has a weaker affinity than for the solvent employed in the dyeing of wool or silk. Thus we may use oxyde of iron dissolved in sulphuric acid, in order to dye wool; but for cotton and linen, it is better to dissolve it in acetous acid. Were it possible to procure a sufficient number of colouring matters, having a strong affinity for cloth, to answer all the purposes of dyeing, that art would be exceedingly simple and easy. But this is by no means the case; if we except indigo, the dyer is scarcely possessed of a dye stuff which yields of itself a good colour, sufficiently permanent to deserve the name of a dye. This difficulty, which at first sight appears insurmountable, has been obviated by a very ingenious contrivance. Some substance is pitched upon, which has a strong affinity, both for the cloth and the colouring matter. This substance is previously combined with cloth, which is then dipped into the solution containing the dye stuff. The dye stuff combines with the intermediate substance, which, being firmly combined with the cloth, secures the permanence of the dye, Substances employed for this purpose are denominated Mordants. The most important part of dyeing is undoubtedly the proper choice and the proper application of mordants; as upon them the permanency of almost every dye depends. Every thing which has been said respecting the application of colouring matters, applies equally to the application of mordants. They must be previously dissolved in some liquid, which has a weaker affinity to them than, the cloth has, to which they are to be applied; and the cloth must be dipped, or even steeped in this solution, in order to saturate itself with the mordant.' Numerous plates are added, illustrative of the various subjects; and a general Index is given with the second volume. ART. X. Senilities; or, Solitary Amusements: in Prose and Verse: W HEN, in the course of our literary labours, we recognize an old acquaintance, whom we have for many years been in the habit of esteeming, we feel pleasure similar to that which is produced by the unexpected meeting of friends after a long R.W. a long and lamented separation. Such is the effect which we at present experience from the perusal of this production of the Rev. Mr. Graves; whom we now once more introduce to the notice and approbation of the public. Whatever the modesty of Mr. G. may intend to intimate by the term Senilities,' we have the pleasure of saying that there is no part of the volume, from which we should have drawn any unfavourable conclusions respecting the mental decline of the author, or in which we should even have perceived the infirmities naturally incident to his venerable age. The preface is written in his usual manner, with much ease and pleasantry; and he tells us that, as the tedious preachers in Charles the Second's time, when the congregation began to be tired after two hours' listening, would say once more and I have done;" so we may rest assured that this publication is on his part "positively the last time of performing." We believe that there has seldom (if ever) been such an instance of performers of this kind retaining their skill and power to please at the advanced period of 86; and we trust that he will avail himself of a common precedent, and appear more last times than one. The first half of this volume consists of short essays on different subjects, which are treated partly in a serious and partly in a jocose manner. At the head of these stands the disquisition announced in the title-page, on the future condition of neglected virgins.'-As Mr. Graves is a clergyman, there is the more propriety in his discussing any curious question in theology: but on this subject he differs from St. Hilary, Dr. Priestley, and others; and in such a discordancy of opinion among learned divines, on so intricate a point, we shall not have the presumption to offer our opinion, nor to act as umpire between the parties. We shall, however, give our fair readers some idea of the matter under discussion.The certainty of a future state, Mr. G. contends, is demonstrable from the very nature and condition of man in this transitory world; and he justly observes that, in respect to the particulars of that state, all is uncertain and merely conjectural. From some hints, nevertheless, which the scriptures afford, he concludes that the same sentiments and affections, though purified and refined from all earthly grossness, will subsist hereafter; and that they will contribute, as in this life, though in a far more exalted manner, to the social endearments of the blessed. Hence he infers that there will also be a sexual distinction in another world, notwithstanding our Saviour's remark that " in heaven. they neither marry nor are given in marriage." 'St. Paul, indeed, mentions a considerable change which the human frame will undergo on that awful occasion: that "it is sown in corruption, F4 ruption, it is raised in incorruption, it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power," it is sown a natural, or merely animal body, it is raised a spiritual, or spritualized body: But he no where says, that a female body will be raised a male, or a male a female body. And if there is to be only one sex, the ladies surely have as good a claim to that exclusive privilege as the men have. Nay as we are to have bodies of some kind or other, and "are to be as the angels in heaven;" the fair sex, in their immaculate purity and virgin innocence, certainly approach nearer to our present ideas of those angelic beings than the males do. In short," every seed," as St. Paul says, "will have its own body;" and we might, with as much reason, expect a grain of wheat to produce an ear of barley, an acorn an apple tree, or the chrysalis of a butterfly to be transformed into an humming bird or a robin red breast, as those to rise up males who were safely deposited in a female form in the tomb.' Now, though there will be no marriages in heaven, and we cannot promise the hapless subjects of this Essay good husbands; yet, what is much better, they will find there an host of cordial friends and sincere lovers. And this delicious passion of love, instead of being restrained to a single object, will probably be infinitely extended and exalted into that universal benevolence, or charity, so strongly enforced in the Gospel. And in our spiritualized bodies we shall enjoy that refined intercourse of affection with the whole sex, which we now experience in the contracted sphere of the connubial state. And, as such an intercourse will greatly augment the happiness of heaven, we can hardly doubt that it will subsist there, and produce its genuine effect.' In short, though we must not expect a Mahometan paradise, we can hardly, I think, doubt that there will be such a beatific commerce and reciprocal affection between the souls of the good of differeut sexes as will constitute the chief felicity of heaven.' And those neglected virgins, who have meekly submitted to their destiny here, will meet with those endearments of which, from some personal defects, perhaps, they have here been unfortunately deprived.' Hence, then, I have endeavoured to extract matter of "consolation to those neglected virgins," who, by a pious resignation, and by culti vating universal benevolence, and forming virtuous habits, shall qualify themselves for the society of the saints in heaven.' Whatever may be the truth in this matter, respecting which we have only the light of reason to influence our decision, the essay is truly ingenious and moral in its tendency; and we highly recommend it to the perusal of our readers: especially those who seem destined to "live, grow, and die in single bles sedness *." In the mean time, we are desirous of seeing our fair friends, as many as are called to that state, enjoying in the present world the happiness of " the rose distilled." * Shakspeare. In In the essay on Profaneness, the author observes that such a violation of duty should be treated like disloyal and seditious words: when an half-bred gentleman, through mere wantonness, profanes that name, which every one is supposed to reverence, in polite, much more in serious and religious company, he should be treated as a militaty officer would, or should, treat an ill-bred fellow, who vented treasonable or disrespectful expressions against the sovereign whom he serves.' This is stating the offence in a very striking light; and it is in reality of a far more serious nature than any transgression against an earthly potentate. This illustration of the offence, in point of obedience to a sovereign, may perhaps convince many of their guilt, who profess to be loyal, and yet dare to be profane. On the sacred scriptures, Mr. Graves thus declares his sen timents: No one can have a more profound veneration for the sacred Scriptures than I have. And though Mr. Paine says, "he could have written a better book than the Bible," I defy him, and all the philo. sophers in France, to produce a work ancient or modern, of so exten. sive and multifarious a kind, in which the historical part is written with greater beauty and simplicity, or from which a better system of politics, or (allowing for the prevalence of some opinions in different ages of the world) a purer scheme of morals can be extracted; or, without any exception, where an equal or so divine an institute of religion has been offered to mankind.' With regard to the question about which philosophers are divided, whether or not there is implanted in the mind of man what they call "The Moral Sense," which Bp. Warburton and Mr. Graves admit, while Locke and Dr. Paley deny it, we shall only remark that it appears to us a dispute about the faculty of reason which is given to man, and by which, according to the received impressions and principles inculcated by education, he is able to feel at once, in proportion to the strength of his reason, the fitness or unfitness of certain actions. What is in reality a regular deduction of reason is performed by the mind so instantaneously, that it obtains, in common language, the name of feeling; and hence that appears an implanted perception, which is in effect a mechanical and rapid process performed by reason. The criticism which occurs in another essay, on the expression used by Shakspeare-" a green and yellow melancholy," we are much inclined to question: "As most of the monuments in that part of the country where Shakspeare was born are made of alabaster of a pale yellow cast, it contracts a greenish mould in a damp church, and, I make no doubt, suggested that |