ON BALLOONS. tion, by furnishing a supply of heated air, in the room of that which is gradually condensed by cooling. It is ascertained from experiment, that the rarity of the air in these machines deMa-pends solely on its heat, and its property of cooling slowly. This Balloon is raised or lowered, while in the atmosphere, by increasing or diminishing the fire. MR. EDITOR. SIR,-If you think the following plain and easy observations on Air Balloons worthy a place in your excellent gazine, they are at your service. I remain, your's, &c. J. K -M. THE Air Balloon is of two kinds; the one intended to contain heated air, the other inflammable. Hot air occupies more space when colder; and inflammable is much lighter at a given temperature, than the common air of the atmosphere. From this, it follows that any mass of either heated or inflammable air, if at liberty, will ascend in the atmosphere with a force of buoyancy equal to the difference between its own weight, and the weight of an equal bulk of common air. If the heated or inflammable air be included in a bag, and the weight of the bag be less than the difference just mentioned, the bag will be carried upwards, though with a less degree of force, namely, with a force equal to the difference lessened to the weight of the bag. This is commonly called an Air Balloon; which, though its figure is not essential to its property of ascending, we will suppose to be a globe. If the magnitude of a Balloon be increased, its power of ascension, or the difference between the weight of the included air, and an equal bulk of common air, will be augmented in the same proportion. For its thick- | ness being supposed the same, it is as the surface it covers, or only as the square of the diameters. This is the reason why Balloons cannot be made to ascend, if under a given magnitude, with cloth or materials of the same thickness. Small Balloons, of thin paper, raised on this principle by the flame of a sponge, or ball of cotton, dipped in spirits of wine, have been exhibited in every part of Europe. The Hydrogen Gas Balloon is preferable to the other, in the present early state of our knowledge. It is usually formed of thin silk varnished over. When filled with gas, its tube of communication is usually closed, so that the air cannot escape. The adventurers are placed in a car, or small vessel, attached to the Balloon by strings, proceeding from a net which covers its upper part. They carry bags of sand with them to serve as ballast, and the end of the tube of communication, as well as a string, that by pulling, may open a valve in the top of the Balloon, are continued down into the car; by these means they have, for a limited time, the power of ascending or descending at pleasure: for the power of ascension is increased by emptying one or more sand bags, or diminished by suffering the gas to escape, either by the tube or through the valve. It may be observed, that the Hydrogen Gas, on account of its great lightness, will not descend through the tube of communication, unless, either by its own expansion from heat, or by the diminished pressure of the atmosphere at great heights, it is made to escape while the balloon is fully inflated; but it will issue from the upper valve when open. The Hydrogen Gas produced in the large way, by the effusion of diluted sulphuric acid on iron shavings, is rather less than one-fifth of the weight of an equal bulk of atmospherical air. The first Balloon which was invented, was as follows,-it consisted of an immense bag of canvass, painted with a composition that might lessen its susceptibility to take fire. A net covers the upper part of its surface, from which proceed ropes, that sustain a gallery, to carry the adventurers and fuel. The lower part is affixed to the gallery, and open to receive the streams of heated and rarefied air, produced by means of fire, made in a proper apparatus in the ground; and the attached grate serves only to main-experiment. tain the requisite degree of rarefac It is estimated that a cubic inch of iron, gives a cubic foot of Hydrogen Gas; and the strong sulphuric acid, sold in London, requires to be diluted by five times its bulk of water for this (To be continued.) THE PAINTER AND THE POET CON- MR. EDITOR. they produce? Miniature or portrait painting can only be considered of real domestic value; landscape painting is only pleasing and captivating to the eye, for a moment; and histo only species of this fine art which is calculated to be of solid and essential service to the mind. What general advantage, I ask, can arise from the most correct likeness of an individual whom we never saw, however well executed upon the canvass, and however highly prized in the domestic circle in which the individual is known? SIR, It has long been a question with me, whether the Painter or the Poetrical painting, I apprehend, is the contributes more to mental improvement; or, in other words, to civilization; and it is, therefore, the object of the present Essay, to endeavour, briefly, to solve it. It is not my intention to enter into an elaborate comparison of these two branches, but simply to glance at their separate merits, trusting that I may be the means of stimulating others, who are better-As it regards landscape painting, calculated for the task, to take a more comprehensive view. and please the eye, they show the exquisite workmanship of the Painters, which call forth most deservedly our esteem and admiration; but they do no more. We look, we gaze,-we applaud ;-no solid impression is made; and it vanishes away from our recollections, like the twinkling starry firmament before the morning sun. what intellectual benefit can possibly accrue from the most accurate delineThe roads which lead to immortal- ation of any given spot? Let the ize the name of the Poet and the mountain and the valley, the trees, Painter, are steep and rugged; and the shrubs, the water, the meadows, none can reach the summit, upon and the cottages, be ever so precisely which the temple of fame is erected, drawn, and where is the augmentation without possessing a mind of more of mental good? And yet these are than ordinary perseverance, and sus- the two departments in which most ceptible of removing almost insur-painters are engaged. They charm mountable difficulties. These roads, alas! are forbidden ground to me. I never dared either to tread their slippery paths, or to enter upon their trackless fields. I never dared to plant in those soils, where so many choice and valuable flowers have bloomed in all the verdure and spring of youthful and vigorous genius, but which, as they were ripening to maHistorical and scriptural painting, turity, and at no distant day destined which I consider as the best of the to impart their fragrant odours to all three that I have named, is, I lament around, have been nipped in the bud, to say, but little cultivated. A knowand blasted in the stem, by the cold ledge of history and scripture are indisand cruel hand of inhuman criticism.pensable branches of modern educaInstead of cherishing the young and tender plants, and rearing them to beauty and to usefulness, the critics of the day, (in whose hands the sovereign sceptre sways,)are too apt to dip their pens in gall, and destroy them, as in a fiend-like rage, I dare, only, thus attempt to glean a little from the borders of these magnificent and enchanting gardens, and leave the fruits of the interior to be plucked by those who are privileged to enter there. The Painter has the whole expanse of nature's creation for the display of his pencil, in all her varied features. Miniature or portrait painting, landscape painting, and historical painting, are so many fields for the versatility of his genius. But the question is, What improvement to the mind do tion, and cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind; and where the plain perusal of the facts themselves does not produce a sufficient comprehension, or strike the mind with suitable effect, the aid of the Painter may frequently be called in to accomplish these two desirable ends. Wherever we see historical or scriptural facts faithfully pourtrayed upon the canvass; there we read its language in living colours. Every circumstance connected with these facts immediately and spontaneously occurs to our remembrance; and serves all the purposes of re-perusing these books, in which those facts are recorded. Too much labour, too much study, too much time, and too much expense, are absorbed here, ever to call forth many labourers into this most inte A resting and important service. where sun, and moon, and stars, and whole life must be spent in the most worlds unnumbered, revolve in all sedentary application, before any art- their separate orbits in one grand and ist, who employs himself in this most harmonious perfect unity of concord. useful department, can expect to reach Nor is the line of demarcation here! an eminency, or to mature his produc- No, he shoots still higher, and, darttions to perfection. He must correct-ing athwart the azure sky, dares prely comprehend the anatomical structure of the human body, as well as of the brute creation, and which, of itself, is not the study of a day. Every muscle and every nerve must be accurately delineated; and every figure on the canvass must bear an exact proportion, or harmony of parts, so as to form the symmetry of the whole. It is not every day that we can expect to see a West's "Christ rejected," West's "Death on a Pale Horse,' a West's "Stephen stoned to Death," -or a Haydon's "Christ's Agony in the Garden." No! These are the productions of time, these are the fruits of perfection. -a The variegated rainbows, the showers, and mists, and halos, and large beams shooting through rifted clouds, and storms, and lightning, and starlight, all the most valued materials of the real painter, are all brought in turn upon the canvass, in historical and scriptural painting; and though, as I have already stated, it is the most refined and the most important species of painting; so, unfortunately, it is the most neglected. But after all that may be said, after all the obstacles which the Painter has to encounter, he still has nature's model for his guide; and has, as it were, only to travel in the steps which are pointed out for him. It will not then, I think, be very difficult to demonstrate, that the Poet confers greater benefits on mankind than the Painter; inasmuch as the productions of his pen are, by far, of the more intrinsic value. sume to draw aside the veil which obscures immortality, and enters upon the boundless world of the uncontrolled and uncircumscribed limits of vast infinity; where the First Great Moving Cause, the Parent of the Universe, and angels, and archangels, and seraphs, dwell. The materials which he uses are solid and substantial, not calculated, like the Painters, to please the eye only, but to expand the mind, and moralize the life. The advantages which are derived from the Poet's labours are not confined to the time, or to the generation, in which the Poet lives; but, while the glass of time shall run, succeeding ages will partake of their salutary influence. The immortal treasures of the sages of antiquity are laid up in store by the real Poet, and are judiciously scattered over his compositions, for the improvement of the minds of others. I have stated that the Painter must comprehend the anatomical structure of the human body; and so must the Poet; and not only so, but likewise equally well understand the organization of the mind. Nature leads the Painter by the hand all along his journey; but she goes with the Poet a comparatively little way. His own acquired abilities must lead him on to the path of Fame; and if his judgment misleads him in any prominent degree, he stumbles on the road (no beacon being there to guide him on his dreary journey) and seldom reaches the goal of his ambition. But after all that I have said in this I stated that the Painter has the imperfect view of the effects of Poetry, whole expanse of nature's creation for the question will naturally recur, the displays of his pencil; but has" What is Poetry ?" I answer for mynot the Poet the same latitude allowed self generally, that it does not consist to him? Yes! He roams not only exclusively in the jingling of the through the world of nature, but also rhyme, or the precise number of feet through the world of intellect. He is in the line; but it is the smooth, and not bounded by facts as they appear gliding, and harmonious arrangement to the artist, but ranges through the of thought and language, calculated wide extent of reason and imagination. to impress our noblest faculties with He is not even confined by the bar-pleasure and with instruction. I know riers of this narrow and terrestrial of no definite and invariable standard globe; but his muse impels him to for poetry; for what is considered dart upwards, and soar to regions poetry with one, is not with another. All depends upon our diversified opi- | see imbedded in hills of chalk, and in nions; for "Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own." If we look into the sacred Book of inspiration, we shall find a model of poetry in all its richness, beauty, simplicity, and harmony of perfection. I might point out many other prose books, so called, for the excellencies of poetry;-suffice it only to add, Pierre's Harmonies of Nature, Hervey's Meditations on the Tombs and in the Flower Garden, and Fontenelle on the Plurality of Worlds, where poetry strikes the ear with pleasure and edification;-in short, where one continued strain of music pervades the whole compositions; and in which we are led in all the sublimity and grandeur of lofty but pious conception, to FROM the numerous extraordinary appearances in the structure of the Earth, the disruption of strata, and the mingled remains of the different organized kingdoms of natuse, in beds of minerals, it is plain that considerable changes have taken place in the frame of the globe since its first formation; and as the divine oracles speak of a universal inundation, which lasted for a considerable time, and which, by its continuance, and the breaking up of the fountains of the great deep, must have left permanent effects,the earlier philosophers, and many also in our day, were very naturally induced to refer these extraordinary appearances to this great event, as their cause. But on more attentive examination many circumstances appeared which excited doubts, whether the deluge described by Moses could possibly have effected the changes which we witness; or whether certain phenomena might not be adduced as arguments, to render it probable that they could not have happened at the same time with that great event. We masses of freestone, limestone, and marble, the remains of almost all descriptions of bodies; and full as freture and texture are most liable to dequently those, which, from their nacay, as those which were of more durable fabric. stance, and one which philosophers But a most extraordinary circumhave least been able to account for, is, that all the organic remains which have been discovered, with very few exceptions, are found to possess such from the species now known to exist generic characters, as distinguish them in nature. No circumstance of the will enable us to account for this, any deluge, with which we are acquainted, have not been found among those of more than it will, why human remains other animals. But a circumstance, most decisive of the fact, that the deluge was not the cause of most of these great geological changes, nor even connected with them, is the discovery of the Mammoth, or Animal Incognitum, on the banks of the river Lena, in Siberia. The circumstances of this discovery are interesting, and throw considerable light on several things usually considered as connected with Geology: a consideration of them will enable me to bring forward my opinions on the subject, opinions which have this to recommend them, that while they explain all the circumstances, and reconcile them with the sacred scriptures, they have a particular bearing on that which has not hitherto been attempted, an explanation why organic remains should so universally consist of animals or vegetables not known to exist in nature as at present constituted. The term Mammoth, or Fossil Elephant, says the Quarterly Journal of Arts, No. 15, has been made use of with a view to correct a common mistake in the application of the word Mammoth, which is in England frequently given to the Mastodon of Cuvier, the animal, of which the remains are chiefly found on the banks of the Ohio, and in other parts of America. The Siberians have long applied the name of Mammoth to the Elephant, whose bones are very abundant in that country, and in many other parts of the world; and it is so used by the writers on the Continent, These remains, wherever found, be regions. The preservation of the flesh of the Mammoth through a long series of ages, is not to be wondered at, when we recollect the constant cold and frost of the climate in which it is found; where, at midsummer, the ground is scarcely thawed four feet deep. long to a species of Elephant, differing from the two now living on the globe; and which is called by Cuvier, the Fossil Elephant; but the propriety of applying the term Fossil to the subject of the following memoir, may perhaps be doubted; for although it is of the same species, it was not found beneath the surface of the earth, but in ice, and retained its flesh and all its softer parts, in a state of perfect freshness. These bones or tusks are found throughout Russia, and more particularly in eastern Siberia, and the Arctic Marshes. The tusks are found in great quantities, and the ivory of them is equal to that of the living Elephants of Asia and Africa. Although for a long series of years very many thousands have been annually obtained, yet they are still collected every year in great numbers on the banks of the larger rivers of the Russian empire, and more particularly those of further Siberia. They abound most of all in the Saichovian Isles, and on the shores of the Frozen Sea. In digging wells, or foundations for buildings, there are every where discovered the entire skeletons of Ele-fed, that its belly hung down below the phants. It may be fairly contended, that the number of Elephants now living on the globe, is greatly inferior to the number of those, whose bones are remaining in Siberia. The author recommends those of his readers who wish for more detailed accounts of the skeletons of Elephants and other large animals, such as the gigantic Buffalo and Rhinoceros, found in different parts of Siberia, and particularly of the immense quantity of their bones, to consult the Dissertations of Pallas in the Nova Commentaria Petropolitana. This Mammoth was discovered, or at least the discovery was announced by the merchant Popoff, and a rude drawing and description of it were taken, which are described as being very bad; it represents a pig rather than an Elephant. It was first seen, imbedded in ice, in 1799; when it was mentioned by the fishermen who saw it. The old men who were present related, that they had heard their fathers say, that a similar monster had been seen formerly in the same Peninsula. When Mr. Adams saw it, one of the cars, well preserved, was furnished with a tuft of hairs. The point of the lower lip had been gnawed, and the upper one having been destroyed, the teeth could be perceived. According to the assertion of the Tungasian chief, the animal was so fat and well joints of the knees. This Mammoth was a male, with a long mane on the neck, but without tail or proboscis. The skin is of a dark grey colour, covered with a reddish wool and black hair. The entire carcase is nine feet four inches high, and sixteen feet four inches long from the point of the nose to the extremity, without including the tusks, which are nine feet six inches, measuring along the curve. The distance from the base of the root of the tusk to the point, is three feet seven inches; the two together weighed 360 pounds avoirdupois; the head alone, without the tusks, weighs 414 pounds. The escarpment of ice was to the report of the Tungusians, the animal was, when they first saw it, seven toises below the surface of the ice. In the year 1805, Patapoff, a Russian master of a vessel, related, that he had lately seen a Mammoth Ele-35 or 40 toises high; and, according phant dug up on the shores of the Frozen Ocean, clothed with a hairy skin; and shewed some hair three or four inches long, and of a reddish black colour, which he had taken from From this account, in which, for the skin of the animal. No more is the satisfaction of your readers, I known of this curious fact; nor should have been more full than my argument we now possess any information re- needed, the following observations specting the carcase of the Mammoth, necessarily arise: At the time when which forms more particularly the this animal, with thousands of others subject of the present memoir, if the of its own kind, and other large anirumour of its discovery had not reach-mals of different kinds, as is clear ed Mr. Adams, who undertook the labour of a journey to those frozen from their well preserved remains, lived in Siberia, the climate and pro |