different condition. The throwster (to throw,
means to twist or twine), after spinning the
raw silk, imported from Italy, Turkey, Bengal,
and China, into thread fit for the loom, sent it
here in bundles, gummy, harsh, dingy; except,
indeed, the Italian, which looks, till washed,
like fragments of Jason's fleece. If bundles,
and regiments of bundles, like these, come
into one dye-house every few days, to be
prepared for the weaving of ribbons alone, and
for the ribbon-weaving of a single town, it is
overwhelming to think of the amount of
production required for the broad silk-weaving of
England, of Europe, of the world. Of the silk
dyed at Coventry, about eighty per cent, is
used for the ribbon-weaving of the city and
neighbourhood; and the quantity averages
six tons and a half weekly. Of the remaining
twenty per cent., half is used for the
manufacture of fringes; and the other half goes to
Macclesfield, Congleton, and Derby.

The harsh gummy silk that comes in from
the throwing mills is boiled, wrung out,
and boiled again. If it wants bleaching,
there is a sort of open oven of a house; a
vault in the yard, where it is "sulphured."
The heat, and the sensation in the throat,
inform us in a moment where we have got to.
When the hanks come forth from this
process, every thread is separated from its neighbour,
and the whole bundle is soft, dry, and
glossy. Then follows the dyeing. To make
the silk receive the colours, it is dipped in a
mordant, in some diluted acid, or solution of
metal, which enables the colour to bite into
the fibre. To make pinks of all shades, the
silk is dipped in diluted tartaric acid for the
mordant, and then in a decoction of safflower
for the hue. To make plum-colour or puce,
indigo is the dye, with a cochineal. To make
black, nitrate of iron first; then a washing
follows; and then a dipping in logwood dye,
mixed with soap and water. For a white, pure
enough for ribbons, the silk has to pass
through the three primary colours, yellow,
red, and blue. The dipping, wringing, splashing,
stirring, boiling, drying, go on vigorously,
from end to end of the large premises, as may
be supposed, when the fact is mentioned that
the daily consumption of water amounts to
one hundred thousand gallons. A reservoir,
in the middle of the yard, formerly supplied
the water; but it proved insufficient, or
uncertain; and now it is about to be filled up,
and an Artesian well is opened to the depth
of one hundred and ninety-five feet. The
dyeing sheds are paved with pebbles or
bricks, crossed with gutters, and variegated
with gay puddles. Stout brick-built coppers
are stationed round the place. Above each
copper are cocks, which let in hot and cold
water from the pipes that travel round the
walls of the sheds. There are wooden troughs
for the dye; and to these troughs the water
is conveyed by spouts. The silk hangs down
into the dye from poles, smoothly turned and
uniform, which are laid across the troughs by
the dozen or more at once. These staves are
procured from Derby. They cost from six
shillings to twenty-four shillings per dozen,
and constitute an independent subsidiary
manufacture. The silk hanks being suspended
from these poles, two men, standing on either
side the trough, take up two poles, souse, and
shake, and plunge the silk, and turn that
which had been uppermost under the surface
of the liquor, and pass on to the next two.
When done enough, the silk is wrung out
and pressed, and taken to the drying-house.
The heat in that large chamber is about one
hundred degrees. On entering it, everybody
begins to cough. The place is lofty and
large. The staves, which are laid across
beams, to contain the suspended silk, make
little moveable ceilings here and there. This
chamber contains five or six hundred-weights
of silk at once. Our minds glance once more
towards the spinning insects on hearing this;
and we ask again, how much of their produce
may be woven into fabrics in Coventry alone?
We think we must have made a mistake in
setting down the weekly average at six tons
and a half. But there was no mistake. It is
really so.

While speaking of weight, we heard
something which reminded us of King Charles I.'s
opinions about some practices which were
going forward before our eyes. It appears,
that the silk which comes to the dye-house is
heavy with gum, to the amount of one-fourth
of its weight. This gum must be boiled out
before the silk can be dyed. But the
manufacturers of cheap goods require that the
material shall not be so light as this process
would leave it. It is dipped in well-sugared
water, which adds about eight per cent, to its
weight. Many tons of sugar per year are
used as (what the proprietor called) "the silk-
dyer's devil's dust." It was this very
practice which excited the wrath of our pious
King Charles, in all his horror of double-
dealing. A proclamation of his, of the date
of 1630, declares his fears of the consequences
of "a deceitful handling" of the material, by
adding to its weight in dyeing, and ordains
that the whole shall be done as soft as
possible; that no black shall be used but Spanish
black, "and that the gum shall be fair boiled
off before dyeing." He found, in time, that
he had meddled with a matter that he did
not understand, and had gone too far. Some
of the fabrics of his day required to be made
of "hard silk;" and he took back his orders
in 1638, having become, as he said, "better-
informed."

From trough to trough we go, breathing
steam, and stepping into puddles, or reeking
rivulets rippling over the stones of the pavement;
but we are tempted on, like children,
by the charm of the brilliant colours that flash
upon the sight whichever way we turn. What
a lilac this is! Is it possible that such a hue
can stand ? It could not stand even the
drying, but for the alkali into which it is