petites. It is from ignorance of his nature that he misapprehends his interest: not comprehending how he is made, he disputes the will of his Maker.

I am impatient for the publication of your book, and hope your printer will make all possible haste to indulge us with it. I rejoice that it has pleased God to give you life and health to finish this work; and I flatter myself, though you may not again embark in so great an undertaking, that so able a pen will not be consigned to indolent repose. As to my poor goose-quill, it is not much to be regretted that, very probably, it will scribble no more. I have neither the force of good health, nor the presumption of good spirits, left to animate me, and without the energy of great talents, these are necessary to the task of undertaking something for the public.

I have been for many months teazed with a slow fever; and the loss of my excellent friend lord Lyttelton, has cast a cloud over my mind. I remember, sir William Temple says, in one of his essays, that "when he recollects how many excellent men and amiable women have died before him, he is ashamed of being alive." With much more reason than sir William (whose merit was equal to that of any of the friends he survived) I feel this very strongly. I have lived in the most intimate connexion with some of the highest characters of the age. They are gone, and I remain: all that adorned me is taken away, and only a cypress wreath is left. I used to borrow lustre from them, but now I seem respec table, even in my own eyes, only as the mourner of departed merit.

LINES,

I agree with your lordship, that I ought not to lament the death of lord Lyttleton on his own account. His virtue could not have been more perfect in this mortal state, nor his character greater than it was, with all whose praise could be an object to a wise and worthy man. He now reaps the full reward of those virtues, which, when here, though they, gave him a tranquil cheerfulness amidst many vexations, and the sufferings of sickness, yet could not produce a perfect calm to the wounds inflicted on his pa ternal affection. When I consider how unhappy his former, how blessed his present, state, I am ashamed to lament him. The world has lost the best example, modest merit the best protector, mankind its gentlest friend. My loss is unspeakable; but as the friendship of such a man is the best gift of God, and I am sensible that I was never deserving of so great a blessing, I ought rather to offer thanks that it was so long bestowed, than to repine that it was taken away. I ought also to beg that, by the remembrance of his precepts and example, I may derive the same helps to doing my duty in all relations of life, and in all social engage ments, that I did from his advice. But virtue never speaks with such persuasion as when she borrows the accents of a friend; moreover, my time in this world will probably be very short, and if it were long, I could never cease to admire so perfect a pattern of goodness. I am ever,

My lord, &c. &c.

ELIZABETH MONTAGUE

For, of Great Britain's gallant train
Five thousand bled, and bled in vain,TM
For cowardly allies!!!

Thus changing still, to nothing fixt,
Of veering themes my song is mixt,
Of glory, and of grief:
One hour I feel a poet's fire,
The next, I drop the listless lyre,

And burn the scribbled leaf.

Yet, though thus wayward be the lay, Hope, ever steady, ever gay,

Pictures a prospect fair ;

She homewards paints a wish'd-for rest, (By many a social circle blest,)

And whispers Peace is there."

THE ASS: AN ODE

ON THE MELIORATION OF THE SPECIES. BY DR. TROTTER.

POOR ass! it joys me much to see thee glad,

And with that saddle new upon thy back; No longer dost thou look demure and sad, For thou hast been of late a fav'rite hack. Yet humbly still thou tread'st the ground, Thy modest front with riband bound, Shaking thy silver bit along : Smooth is thy hide as any down, Not cudgel'd now by lusty clown, Or by a dusky tinker's thong. Poor brute! so lately doom'd to fag, To toil and sweat from day to day; Thy life near Famine's hut to drag, On stones thy wearied trunk to lay. What lucky star has chang'd thy lot? Are all those rugged times forgot?

From mis'ry's rub!

Nor trudging down the dusty street, Nibbling each dirty weed you meet,

In pools or dub.

Oft have I met thee waddling on the road, Bending beneath thy panniers, stuff'd and tied,

Of rags and rusty iron, a monstrous load,
And eke a beggar's brat on either side;
Forth from a greasy bag their long necks
throwing,

Just like two well-fed geese to market
going;

Gabbling and gulping down from wooden dish,

Sour curds and leeks, or mess of stinking

fish.

But cease thou gentle ass to fret and whine, Nor envious be to view the well-fed steed;

Though grooms attend him clad in liv'ries fine,

And man records with pride his noble breed;

Go turn to Talavera's plain,

And see the mighty warrior slain, Cover'd with dust and blood on life's last brink,

He calls a Spanish ass to bring him drink. So Dives laid in Hell, 'midst torments dire, Cried Water, Laz'rus, for I burn with fire!" Then tell thy kind, their case might still be

worse,

Nor glory seek beside the slaughter'd horse.

A short time after the massacre of the army of French loyalists at Cape Quiberon, in 1795, a body of cavalry amounting to 1200, were sent out, but with only three months' provender in the transports. Not being able to affect a function with the royal army, the greater part died of hunger on board and 300 were carried on shore to the little islands Hedic and Houat, where they were killed off by musketry.

But

But while I hail thee on this glad promotion, Still let me just advise thee as a friend; Perhaps you donkies have not learn'd the notion,

That happy hours and flow'ring seasons
end.

We mortals find while skies are smiling,
Some sullen cloud our hopes beguiling;
Above our heads the thunders hurst,
That lay us level with the dust.
What if they tax thy bit and saddle,
Thou must again with beggars waddle;
Be beat till every rib is sore,

And beg thy scrip from door to door.
Alas! thou oft may'st want a bit of grass,
Nor pity find from any human ass.

Yes, trust me, I delight to see thee gay,

And lovely Laura seated on thy back;
She, like the forest's queen in flowery May,
The envy thou of every other hack.

And while you pace to Laura's song,
Or drag your little car along,
May fear and shame o'erspread the face
That dares t'insult thy honest race:

Erskine himself shall nobly rise,

Again a list'ning senate charm, Teach mankind how to sympathise,

And half creation's wrath disarm :* Thou too, shall rise in being's scale, And pity for the ass o'er all the world prevail.

ODE

i

He, sure, will arm me for the fearful strife Teach me to vanquish wheresoe'er I tread, His hand omnipotent will guard my life; And bind the wreath of Conquest round my head.

Then, Fear, farewell! Let fiercest fienda draw nigh;

Their threats I scorn, their prowess I defy; Nay, if that Pow'r who bids the tempest reign,

And turns to mountains ocean's liquid plain,
If His all-potent arm my vessel guide,
Unterrified I'll brave the boist'rous tide,
Unterrified I'll meet the loudest storm,
And challenge Death in ev'ry dreadful form.
Yes, let the tempest roar, the whirlwind
rise,

And the fork'd light'ning dim my aching

To fell Despair submits, a willing prey;
Questions the grace to contrite sinners giv'n,
And thus offends the Majesty of Heav'n.
In that dread hour when Death's relentless
dart

Is fiercely level'd at the shrinking heart;
When human care and human skill are vain,
T'exempt the spirit, or the flesh, from pain;
In that dread hour, ah! whither shall he
turn?

Where can his soul a ray of light discern,
To gild her passage thro' the dreary tomb
To the dark confines of a world to come?

But can we 'gainst conviction veil our eyes? Can we contemplate ocean, earth, and skies, Nor view in all that pow'r whose guardian

Can we behold the blessings He bestows,
From the proud cedar to the modest rose,
Nor instant feel our rebel hearts subdu'd
By that first duty humble gratitude?

Tho' short our ken, yet e'en on earth we
find

Sorrow oft proves a medicine to the mind: And when this mortal veil, which clouds our sight,

Is pierc'd by immortality's clear light,
Then, shall we learn the cause of every woe
Which blighted our unstable joys below:
Then, causes and effects alike will shine
The emanations of a love divine.

But man, too fond of earth, ne'er looks on high,

To read the mystic wonders of the sky;
Or, if he read, no steady credence gives,
Because he hears, and oft, alas! believes

Those fiends accurst, who fain, with sceptic leav'n,

Would poison all his confidence in Heav'n. And tho' calm Reason proves this world design'd

To try, but not to recompence, mankind,
Still he repines at ev'ry stroke of Fate,
Nor trusts to blessings in an after-state.
Insensate wretch! still suffer, still com
plain,

Still seek, with earthly balms, to ease thy pain;

Too late thou'lt learn, his conflicts ne'er can cease,

Who madly slights the only mean of peace; Too late thou'lt find, thy ev'ry hope will fade,

If plac'd on human, not celestial, aid.

M. STARKE.

ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON.

WE E are now to give some account

of the experiments made and described by Mr. DAVY, to this learn ed body, on nitrogen, ammonia, and the amalgam from ammonia. In reasoning on the phenomena produced by the action of potassium upon ammonia, the professor suggested, that nitrogen might possibly consist of oxygen and hydrogen, or, that it might be composed from

water.

He has now made a great number of laborious experiments, in the hope of solving this problem, the results of which, though for the most part negative, he has fully stated, with the hope of elucidating some points of the discussion. The formation of nitrogen has been often asserted to take place in many processes, in which none of its known combina tions were concerned; and the discovery of Priestley, on the passage of gases through red-hot tubes of earthen-ware; the accurate researches of Berthollet, and the experiments of Bouillon la Grange, have afforded a complete solution of the problem. One of the most striking cases in which nitrogen has been supposed to appear, without the presence of any other matter but water, which can be conceived to supply its elements, is in the decomposition and recomposition of water by electricity. To ascertain if nitrogen could be generated in this manner, Mr. Davy had an apparatus made, by which a quantity of water could be acted upon by Voltaic electricity, so as to produce oxygen and

This

hydrogen with great rapidity, and in which these gases could be detonated, without the exposure of the water to the atmosphere. The water used had been most carefully purged of air, and after the first detonation of the oxygen and hydrogen, there was a residuum or about th of the volume of gases, and after every succeeding detonation this residuum was found to increase, till at length, after about fifty detonations had been made, it equalled more than 4th of the volume of the water. being examined by the test of nitrous gas, was found to contain no oxygen, but that it consisted of 26 of hydrogen, and 34 of a gas having the characters of nitrogen. The experiment seemed in favour of the idea of the production of nitrogen from pure water, in these electrical processes. Another experiment was instituted on still more accurate principles, the result of which seemed to shew that nitrogen is not formed during the electrical decomposition and recomposition of water, and that the residual gas is hydrogen, and that the hydrogen should be in excess, was referred to a slight oxidation of the pla tina. The experiments of Mr. Cavendish on the deflagration of mixtures of oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, lead directly to the conclusion, that the nitrous acid, sometimes generated in experiments on the production of water, owes its origin to nitrogen, mixed with the oxygen and hydrogen, and is never produced from these two gases alone; and Mr. Davy refers to facts ascertain

ed

ed by himself, and described in the Bakerian Lecture for 1800, which like wise seem to shew that the nitrous acid which appears in many processes of the Voltaic electrization of water, cannot be formed unless nitrogen be present.

In answer to the objection that both acids and alkalies may be produced from pure water, other very demonstrative experiments were made, viz. one series in a jar filled with oxygen gas, and another in an apparatus, in which glass, water, mercury, and wires of platina, were present. In the first, the result was, that in no instance in which slowly distilled water was employed, and in which the receiver was filled with pure oxygen from oxymuriate of potash, was any acid or alkali exhibited; even when nitrogen was present, the indications of the production of acid and alkaline matter were very feeble. In the second series of experiments, the oxygen and hydrogen produced from water, were collected under mercury, and the two portions of water communicated directly with each other; and in several trials, it was always found that fixed alkali separated in the glass negatively electrified and that a very minute quantity of acid was observable in the glass positively electrified: but whether the acid was owing to impurities which rise in the distillation with the the mercury, or to muriatic acid existing in the glass, Mr. Davy does not determine; he says, however, as common salt perfectly dry, is not decomposed by silex, it seems very likely that muriatic acid in its arid state may exist in combination in glass.

Mr. Davy next states the results of the investigations which he had made on the production of nitrous acid and ammonia, in various processes carried on by himself, and then proceeds to notice some attempts which he made to decompose nitrogen by agents, which he conceived might act at the same time on oxygen, and on the basis of nitrogen. Potassium sublines in nitrogen without altering it, or being itself changed, and he suspected that the case might be different, if this powerful agent were made to act upon nitrogen, assisted by the intense heat and decomposing energy of Voltaic electricity. The experiment was tried: the phenomena were very brilliant; as soon as the contact with the potassium was made, there was always a bright light, so intense as to be painful to the eye the platina used,

became white hot; the potassium rose in vapour; and, by increasing the distance of the cup from the wire, the electricity passed through the vapour of the potassium, producing a most brilliant flame, of from half an inch to an inch and a quarter in length, and the vapour seemed to combine with the platina, which was thrown off in small globules, in a state of fusion, producing an appearance similar to that produced by the combustion of iron in oxygen gas. In all trials of this kind hydrogen was produced, and in some of them there was a loss of nitrogen. This seemed to lead to the inference that nitrogen is decomposed, but in other experiments it was certain there was no sensit quantity of nitrogen lost. The largest proportion of nitrogen which disappeared in any experiment was the of the quantity used, and though it cannot be positively inferred that it was not decomposed, yet Mr. Davy thinks it more likely that the loss is owing to its combination with nascent hydrogen; and its being separated with the potassium in the form of pyrophoric sublimate, which is always produced when potassium is electrized and converted into vapour in ammonia. Mr. D. mentions other experiments: but after all, he candidly says, that the general tenor of these enquiries cannot be considered as strengthening in any considerable degree, the suspicion which he had formed of the decomposition of nitrogen. He stated all the strong ob❤ jections that occurred to him against the mode of explaining the phenomena, by supposing nitrogen decomposed in the operation; but, at the same time, observing that they must not be considered as decisive on this complicated and obscure question; and he adds, the opposite view of the subject may be easily defended.

The professor next treats of the decomposition of ammonia; and, in refe rence to former experiments, he says, the production of an amalgam from ammonia, which regenerated volatile alkali, apparently by oxidation, confirmed the notion of the existence of oxygen in this sub stance, at the same time it led to the suspicion, that of the two gases separated by electricity, one, or perhaps both, might contain metallic matter united to oxygen; and the results. of the distillation of the fusible substance from potassium and ammonia, may probably be explained on such a supposition. Ile has made a number

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