We have already stated that every one of these colours is indecomposable, and that there are certain worlds illuminated by a single colour only, instead of possessing the infinite number of tints enjoyed by the inhabitants of the solar system. An idea of this effect can easily be gained in a very simple but surprising manner by inserting panes of glass of different colours in the hole of the shutter of a dark room. If the light is yellow, you will find that all those objects that are capable of reflecting yellow light are coloured by it, while those which are bright red or blue become almost black by absorbing the only light present. If we could procure an object which was perfectly complementary in colour to the yellow glass, it would appear perfectly black. The same experiment may be repeated with the other colours. After remaining in this coloured light for some time, if you suddenly pass out into daylight the complementary colour will tinge everything around you. Instead of using a room into which coloured light only is admitted, lamps burning with a coloured flame may be employed. Brewster mentions the following experiment, which is a very striking one:—Fill a spirit-lamp with alcohol in which has been dissolved as much common salt as the spirit will take up; on being lit it will be found to burn with a livid yellow flame. A room lighted entirely with one or two lamps of this kind will form a laboratory for some very singular experiments. It should, if possible, be hung with pictures in water and oil colours, and the persons present ought to wear nothing but the brightest colours, and the table be ornamented with the gayest of flowers. The room being first lighted with ordinary daylight, the lamps above mentioned should be brought in, and the daylight carefully excluded, when an astonishing metamorphosis will take place. The spectators will be hardly able to recognise each other; the furniture of the room, and every other object contained in it, will reflect but a single colour. The flowers will lose their brilliant tints, the paintings will appear as if they were drawn in Indian ink. The brightest purple, the purest lilac, the richest blue, the liveliest green, will be converted into a monotonous yellow. The same change will take place in the countenances of those present; a livid paleness will spread over their faces, whether young or old, and those who are naturally of an olive complexion will hardly appear changed at all. Every one will laugh at the appearance of his neighbour’s face, without thinking that he is just as great a subject of laughter to them. If, in the midst of the amusement caused by this experiment, the light of day is admitted at one end of the room, the other end being still lighted with the salt-lamp, every one will appear to be half-illuminated with the livid colour which has caused so much surprise, the other portion of their figure and clothes being of the natural hue.