(Lon. Mag.) SPANISH ROMANCES. There are sublime lessons of morality in some of the old Spanish poets-they seem to march along in all the pomp and pageantry of funereal state. They speak as with an oracular voice. Their discourse is of that death over which they triumph, and which they make the servant of their verse, and the minister of their wisdom. The grave is almost as often the record of man's pride as the witness of his humiliation. He has his revenge on mortality by raising pillars and piles-whether of sculpture or of song—more durable than the poor tenement that mortality has laid in ruins. Death sweeps away the woe-worn creature of years, who in return builds up his monument, which lasts for centuries-deaf to the storm, and reckless of vicissitude. There is a fine flow of solemn truths in Jorge Manrique's Glosa on his departed friend. These are extracts. AWAKE, AWAKE, MY SLEEPING SOUL. Awake, awake, my sleeping soul, How soon life's busy moments roll, How soon the hour of death draws near! How swiftly hurrying joy glides by! And nought but sorrow's shade remains Yet sweeter is the memory Of other moments' griefs and pains Than joys in this. Our lives are rivers flowing on To that interminable sea, The mighty grave: There go-as there have ever gone, All pomp, and pride, and royalty, Which nought can save. There roll the mountain's rapid streams, There mingle all Lost in that ocean-tide which seems To swallow-though unsated still- O could we but adorn the face, The corporal face, with skilful art, And beauty rare ! As we might clothe with glorious grace, O what industrious, busy will, What passion and what ardour we The sensual captive with our skill, O mark of what delusive worth The fleeting things for which we sigh! For, in this vain deceitful earth, We lose them ev'n before we die, Yes! lose for ever; And time destroys them in its way, Vicissitude and accident, And busy change; All bear the seeds of self-decay, And o'er the heights most eminent, The tempests range. Death treats all mortal things the same; He beeds no rank, respects no name, The Trojans are in darkness laid, The Roman history's veil'd in shade, But nought remains. Why should we seek the vain display In memory's hold, When the events of yesterday As deeds of old? For that, which is my Maker's will, I'm ready now to die.-I give My soul to heaven resignedly To death's great change: When God decrees that we shall die, Thou who didst bend thee from above, Thou who didst clothe thee in thy love Thou who didst bear the stripes abhorr'd, All mortal pain! Not for my merit-heavenly Lord! Yet if ever the staid and sober brow of religion was adorned with garlands of flowers -if ever she was led by cheerfulness into the daily walks of the world-if ever she was courted by the smiles of poetry and of natural joy-it was in Spain. True, she had a terrible aspect, and a scourge of vipers for those she hated; but on the simple, untutored, obedient spirits that followed in her gorgeous train, she breathed nothing but peace, and beauty, and blessedness. Their devotion had none of the high abstractions of philosophy, neither had it any of philosophy's doubts and fears. They believed and felt-they felt and believed. Their creed intermingled itself with their social affections their devotion was fed by every-day objects-over which their romanceros threw the lustre of poetical imagery, and which their priests enlisted in the service of religion. WHILE TO BETHLEM WE ARE GOING. While to Bethlem we are going, Wherefore from his throne exalted, Why did he, the Lord eternal, Well, then! let us haste to Bethlem, The pastoral romances too are generally the very portraiture of genuine sentimentundefaced by the decorations and delusions of artificial society. Their charms are not extraneous. They are varied; they are pure and passionate. They have nothing of the mysticism of civilization, nor of the adorning of deceit. THE MAIDEN IS DISQUIETED. The maiden is disquieted, Who shall break on her footsteps' tread? She is wandering o'er the mountain there, Her flocks around her be; She is fair as the brightest flowers are fair, But troubled like the sea. The maiden is disquieted, Who shall break on her footsteps' tread? NAY! SHEPHERD, NAY! THOU ART UNWARY. Nay! shepherd, nay! thou art unwary— Thy flocks are wandering far away: Alas! I know it well-'tis Mary Who leads my troubled thoughts astray. Look, shepherd! look-how far they rove! -O! he who is forgot by love Come leave those thoughts so dark and dreary, And with your browzing flocks be gay. -Ah no! 'tis vain, 'tis vain,—for Mary Leads all my troubled thoughts astray. Tis love then, shepherd! O depart, Nay! shepherd, wake thee, dare not tarry, -Ah no! 'tis vain, 'tis vain,-for Mary Then tell thy love-perchance 'tis hid, The following is very illustrative of Spanish manners and Spanish feelings. THE GOOD OLD COUNT IN SADNESS STRAY'D. The good old Count in sadness stray'd He bent his head-he said his prayers And sad and gloomy were his thoughts, O! daughter fair-to woman grown, Be silent, father mine! I There are whose children ban their bliss, But these romances must be brought to a close. They must mingle no longer with other gems and flowers, but be transplanted to a garden of their own. That's melancholy-they quit the sweet society among which they have been proud to linger,-friends and companions-and they go to solitude, perhaps to oblivion. Be it not so! It is hard to tear oneself away from delightful recollections and busy thoughts Yet in the progress of these desultory things, the heart has been often wounded when it has been dragged to that "renowned, romantic land where they had their origin. Gloom soon cast shadows around it, and those shadows grew darker and darker. Meanwhile they with whom every remembrance of sympathy and affection was associated, have been torn up, like loathsome weeds, from the soil they blessed-and we loved. Of the dearest, and the purest, some have perished; and their memory, embalmed in burning and undying hate, to be poured out hereafter on the bare heads of tyrants, lives in the heart of heart;-some wear cruel chains which may perhaps rust ere they fall-and some wander like the ghosts which can find no habitation on earth, nor an entrance to the grave-desolate-broken ;-and some most perfidiously-their figures pursue me, and ten times a day I hurl-Nay! stop thy indignation-they wereI had forgotten-that 1 ought to forget. spirit that is sadly troubled. Yet a romance or two!-they will still a THAT'S A LIE,-THAT'S A LIE! Riches will serve for titles too That's true-that's true! And they love most who oftenest sigh That's a lie,-that's a lie! That crowns give virtue-power gives wit, To say a dull and sleepy warden They must be gagg'd who go to court, Deserve both shame and suffering too That's true-that's true! But wond'rous favours to be done, And downy pillows for our bead, That he who in the courts of law CHEMICAL ESSAYS. NO. V. (Sel. Mag.) AMMONIA-SULPHUR-PHOSPHORUS, WITH THEIR RESPECTIVE COMPOUNDS. N ITROGEN and hydrogen also the alkalies to which we have just alunite, and form a very extraordi- luded. Water absorbs it readily, tanary compound. It is called AMMONIA, king up four hundred and sixty times or the volatile alkali. To explain this, its own bulk with ease. It was formerwe must first give some account of that ly called spirits of hartshorn, because class of bodies called alkalies. They it was obtained from the shavings of are such as unite readily with all acids, this last-mentioned substance. The neutralize or impair their activity, and easiest method of procuring ammonia form with them a compound termed a for the examination of the student, is salt. As acids change all vegetable by heating, in a small glass retort, two blues red, so alkalies change them parts of dry quicklime, and one of mugreen. A very easy example of this riate of ammonia. It must be collectkind may be given. Let the operator ed over mercury, as water absorbs it colour with violets, or any other blue rapidly. Ammonia combines with the flower, some common white paper, and acids, and forms salts mostly soluble in dip this, when coloured, into a solution water, and which give out the smell of of vinegar and water it will immedi- ammonia when mixed with pure potash ately change to red. Let him then dip or lime. it into a solution of soda; and the red will be converted into green. The test generally employed by chemists for detecting acids, is paper dipped in a solution of litmus : this is a blue vegeta-el's ble extract, and forms so delicate a test, that it will show the presence of one hundredth part of sulphuric acid. Ammonia is a gas of a very pungent smell, and possessing all the marks of One of the most important of these is muriate of ammonia, the same salt which was anciently called sal ammoniac. It was obtained by burning camdung. SULPHUR, the next body in our list,is a very brittle substance of a light yellow colour, with very little taste, or, when cold, of smell. When heated, it exhales very peculiar and suffocating fumes. It is a mineral, and is found crystallized. If a roll of sulphur be taken and suddenly grasped in a warm hand, it crackles, and frequently falls to pieces from its unequal expansion, as it is a very bad conductor of caloric. Sulphur in masses is got from Sicily; in rolls it is chemically obtained in England from sulphuret of copper. It unites with oxygen, forming two compounds, to the latter of which we have already not unfrequently alluded--this is sulphuric acid. The first proportion it unites in, forms sulphurous acid gas. This is formed whenever sulphur is burned in common air. It is obtained more plentifully by burning sulphur in a closed vessel filled with oxygen it should be collected over mercury, as water absorbs it very rapidly. Sulphurous acid gas destroys all colours; but when diluted with water it reddens vegetable blues. On the principle that this gas destroys colours, depends the common plan of removing the stain of Ink, by wetting the place with common water, and burning a match underneath it. The gas rises, and is absorbed by the water, and the colour is thus destroyed. This gas is unrespirable, being exceedingly deleterious even if largely diluted with atmospheric air. It is chiefly used for whitening cotton goods and silks. It is also sometimes employed to check the vinous fermentation. We will now consider the next compound of oxygen and sulphur, viz. sulphuric acid. It was formerly obtained by the distillation of green vitriol or sulphate of iron; it is now procured by burning about eight parts of sulphur and one of nitre in leaden rooms containing water, which absorbs the gas, and it is then concentrated by distillation. The principle of the formation of sulphuric acid by the combustion of sulphur and nitre may be thus explained. The sulphur, by burning in contact with atmospheric air, forms sulphurous acid. The nitre gives rise to the production of nitric oxide, which, with the oxygen of the air, gives rise to nitrous acid gas. When these gases, (i. e. sulphurous and nitrous acids) are perfectly dry, they do not act upon one another, but, moisture being present in small quantity, they form a white solid, which is instantly decomposed when put into water: the nitrous acid reverts to the state of nitric oxide, having transferred one additional proportion of oxygen to the sul hurous acid, and, with water, producing the sulphuric acid; while the nitrous oxide plays the same part as before. Its Sulphuric acid is acrid and caustic, and produces a very sour liquid. It rapidly chars and even destroys wood, metals, or animal fibres, &c. indeed, all animal and vegetable substances. colour, when it is pure, is almost transparent, and of nearly the same subsistence as oil. The sulphuric acid of commerce, known by the name of oil of vitriol, is seldom perfectly pure ;lead, lime, and potash, are not unfrequently found in it. The uses of sulphuric acid are various and numerous, as well in arts as in chemistry. It is an important article of commerce. The makers of many of the other acids, bleachers, brass-founders, gilders, dyers, paper-makers, all employ it. Some of its salts are very useful,but these we shall notice hereafter. Sulphur and hydrogen unite, and form a singular gas, called by most chemists sulphuretted hydrogen. It is peculiarly fetid: is inflammable, and deposits sulphur in burning. Water may be strongly impregnated with it, and in this case it is a very delicate test for metals, which it precipitates in different colours. Sulphuretted hydrogen is by some chemists considered as an acid,and is termed hydrosulphuric acid. Our next body is PHOSPHORUS. It may be obtained by distilling concrete phosphoric acid with charcoal at a red heat; the tube of the retort in which it is distilled should be immersed an inch or more in a basin of water. When the retort becomes red hot, the phosphorus passes over,and looks somewhat like wax. In this state it is impure; but it may be purified by melting it under hot water, and squeezing it through chamois leather. But, before we proceed, we must caution the young experimentalist to beware how he meddles with this dangerous body; indeed, we would recom |