ing and writing of a genteel person; and the same impropriety would be found in a slovenly dress, stamping walk, and so forth Ladies or gentlemen, therefore, should be as particular in the choice of the pieces they play, as they are in the books they read, in the pictures they hang up in their rooms, and in the quality and fashion of all that belongs to their wearing apparel. And their performance of them should be as neat, tasteful, and elegant, as every thing else about them. This, if it is stric ly attended to from the beginning, is not so difficult as it may appear; and in the course of some time it becomes as natural as writ ing a neat hand.

But it is not enough to play only mechanically right, though the performance be ever so clean, distinct, and rapid, a person of taste and feeling in other respects, should also play with taste and feeling. For to play without feeling, has the same effect as r ding in a language we do not understand; and though we may pronounce every word right and distinctly, it will make no impresssion on the hearer. Yet we may play with

feeling and still without taste, as we shall endeavour to shew on a future occasion.

The last particular pointed out before, is, the difference between shining only in some trifles of fashionable playing, and being an able and judicious performer in all respects That fashion often insists upon trifles, more than upon what is important, will be allowed. When, therefore, a great performer introduces something new, it becomes fashionable, though it consists only in trifles; but the true art of playing will always remain independent of such things, in a similar manner as the rules of harmony will probably never be derived from the laws of fashionable modulation.

The two greates and most celebrated professors of the piano-forte now in this country, are Mr. J. B. Cramer, and Mr. Woelf, whose distinguished merit is sufficiently known and acknowedged; and the only junior one we venture to mention immediately after them, is Mr. George Kollman, who has already been noticed at page 602 of our former Volume.

ON THE ELASTICITY OF AIR.

AIR is compressible and elastic. It is compressible, because it may be made to occupy considerably less space than it naturally fills; and elastic, because it possesses a certain spring which causes it to expand when the force that confined it is removed.

If a very small quantity of air be tied up in a bladder, when it is held to the fire the sides of the bladder will gradually distend, till it is completely inflated by the elasticity of the included air From this, and other experiments it has been inferred, that fire is the cause of the elasticity of air.

The elastic power of air may be demonstrated by many amusing experiments If a bladder, containing a small quantity of air, be placed under a weight, and both be put under the receiver of an air pump, on exhausting the air out of the receiver, the small quantity pent up in the bladder will distend with such force, by its elasticity, as to raise up the weights which are laid upon it.

If a piece of thin bladder be tied over the mouth of a glass bason, when it is placed under the receiver, the air within the glass will begin to expand as soon as that under the receiver

begins to be exhausted by the action of the air pump, and the bladder will presently burst.

Those who have not a proper apparatus for making experiments of the preceding kind, may, by the humble means of a phial and small tube, or a tobacco pipe, produce a sufficient effect to satisfy themselves of the elasticity of air. Fill a phial about half full of water, insert ne end of the pipe in the fluid, and let the other project about an inch above the neck of the bottle; then close up the pipe in the neck with sealing wax, so that air may not escape from the bottle. After the machine is completed, blow strongly through the tube, and the elasticity of the air, which is compressed in the upper part of the bottle, will so far overcome the resistance of the atmosphere or exterior air, as to force the water out of the pipe some inches in height, till the density of the interior and exterior air becomes equai. When the water is exhausted below the end of the pipe in the bottle, it may be supplied by sucking the tube with the lips, and instantly stopping the aperture of the pipe with the finger; then immerse the end in a bason of water, and when the finger is removed it will flow into the bottle. For a part of the air has been drawn out of the phial by the lips, that which remains is less dense than the

exterior air, so that the pressure on the surface of the water in the bason overcomes the resistance of the rarified air within the bottle, and forces the fluid up the pipe, till the gravities of the interior and exterior become equal. As heat distends the volume of air by imposing a superior degree of elasticity, if the phial be held near the fire, or even warmed by the heat of the hand, this will increase the elastic force of the air, and cause a small discharge of water from the neck of the tube.

All bodies contain some proportion of air, and it is continually endeavouring to exert its elasticity. Fruits and vegetables have their pores filled with air. If a shrivelled apple be placed at the bottom of a vessel of water, and then covered with a receiver, on exhausting the air from the latter, several streams of air will issue from the apple, and increase in quantity as the exhaustion of the receiver increases. The apple, at the same time, will change its appearance; for the air it contains being no longer confined by any external pressure, will swell out its parts and fill up all the wrinkles, giving it the semblance of a fresh gathered apple. If air be re-admitted into the recipient, it will force back into the pores of the apple that which had escaped, and the distended parts of the apple will shrink, till it again exhibits its former withered appearance. An apple contains so much air, that were it all to be given out to the stomach at once, when this fruit is eaten, the coats of the stomach would be distended till they burst.

In the doubling of the film at the large end of an egg, there is enclosed a small quantity of air. Take a new laid egg, and make a hole in the smaller end, place it with that end downwards in a wine glass; then put both under the receiver of an air pump. On working the pump, the air in the upper part of the egg feeling less pressure from the atmosphere, will begin to distend by its elasticity, and when the process of exhaustion is completed, within the recipient, it will force the whole contents of the egg through the hole at the bottom of the shell. On allowing the air to return to the receiver, the parts of the egg will re-enter the shell.

The operation of cupping commences with holding a small glass, resembling a bell in shape, over the flame of a lamp or candle, till the air within the glass is so rarified that scarcely any thing of it remains. The glass is then

applied to the part affected, and a partial vacuum having been produced in the former by the action of the flame, the air under that part of the skin which the glass covers, feeling no longer the pressure of the atmosphere, exerts its spring, and in so doing swells out the skin which confines it. The skin is then pierced with a lancet, and the operation ends.

Fish have within them a small bladder of air, which they can contract or dilate at pleasure. By contracting it they become specifically heavier than water, and sink; by dilating it they become lighter, and rise. This power, however, is lust when the pressure of the atmosphere on their bodies is removed; for then the air contained in this vessel exerts it elasticity, and the fish is constrained to mount to the surface. In proof of this, put a carp into a vessel of water, then place the vessel and its contents under the receiver, exhaust the air, and the carp will float on the surface of the water without the power to descend; for the exterior pressure being taken away by the action of the pump, the air within the blad. der of the fish acquires such power of expansion, that the animal can no longer exert a power of contraction, but is constrained to remain on the surface of the water to its great pain.

On the air's susceptibility of being compressed, and its prodigious expansion when the compressing force is removed, depend the structure and uses of the air-gun. In this instrument a quantity of air is so condensed, that on the power which confined it being taken away, the air by its elasticity, projects a bullet as far as it would be carried by gun-powder. The simplest constructed air gun is formed like a common gun with a single barrel, and the condensed air is contained in a brass ball that screws on below the lock. The ball is filled with air by means of a syringe, and is furnished with a stop-cock. The bull t is made to fit the barrel very exactly, and is rammed in like the ball of a musket. Each gun is furnished with two brass balls which are capable of containing air sufficient for twenty discharges. The gun is charged by turning the cock, which fills a small chamber at the but end of the barrel with condensed air. By pulling the trigger a valve is opened, when the condensed air rushes in behind the bullet, and drives it out with such violence as to force it through an oak board, half an inch thick, and at the distance of twenty-six yards.

PALESTINE. *

REFT of thy sons, amid thy foes forlorn,
Mourn, widow'd queen, forgotten Sion, mourn!
Is this thy palace, sad city, this thy throne,
Where the wild desert rears its craggy stone?
While suns unblest their angry lustre fling,
And way-worn pilgrims seek the scanty spring?
Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy
view'd?

Where now thy might, which all these kings subdu'd?

No martial myriads muster in thy gate;
No suppliant nations in thy temple wait;
No prophet bards, thy glittering courts among,
Wake the full lyre, and swell the tide of song:
But lawless Might, and meagre Want is there,
And the quick-darting eye of restless Fear,
While cold Oblivion, 'mid thy ruins laid,
Folds his dank wing beneath the ivy shade.

Ye guardian saints! ye warrior sons of heaven,
To whose high care Judæa's state was given!
O wont of old your nightly watch to keep,
A host of gods, on Sion's towery steep!
If e'er your secret footsteps linger still
By Siloa's fount, or Tabor's echoing hill,
If e'er your song on Salem's glories dwell,
And mourn the captive land you lov'd so well;
(For, oft, 'tis said, in Kedron's palmy vale
Mysterious harpings swell the midnight gale,
And, blest as balmy dews that Hermon cheer,
Melt in soft cadence on the pilgrim's ear ;)
Forgive, blest spirits, if a theme so high
Mock the weak notes of mortal minstrelsy;
Yet, might your aid this anxious breast inspire
With one faint spark of Milton's seraph fire,
Then should my Muse ascend with bolder flight,
And wave her eagle-wing exulting in the light.
O happy once in heaven's peculiar love,
Delight of men below, and saints above!.
Tho' Salem, now, the spoiler's ruffian hand
Has loos'd his hell-hounds o'er thy wasted land;
Tho' weak and whelm'd beneath the storms of
fate,

Thy house is left unto thee desolate;

*Having been favoured with a private copy of this admirable Poem, it had long been our intention to insert it in our Magazine; many circumstances, however, have delayed it, till at length it has been announced for publication in a Collection of the Oxford Prize Poems. Our Readers perhaps will not think it even now too late; they are therefore presentel with it entire.

Tho' thy proud stones in cumbrous ruin fall,
And seas of sand o'ertop thy mouldering wall;
Yet shall the Muse to Fancy's ardent view
Each shadowy trace of faded pomp renew?
And as the seer on Pisgah's topmost brow
With glistening eye beheld the plain below,
With prescient ardour drank the scented gale,
And bade the opening glades of Canaan hail;
Her eagle eye shall scan the prospect wide,
From Carmel's cliffs to Almotana's tide;
The flinty waste, the cedar-tufted hill,
The liquid health of smooth Ardeni's rill;
The grot, where, by the watch-fire's evening
blaze,

The robber riots, or the hermit prays;
Or, where the tempest rives the hoary stone,
The wintry top of giant Lebanon.

Fierce, hardy, proud, in conscious freedom

bold,

Those stormy seats the warrior Druses hold;
From Norman blood their lofty line they trace,
Their lion courage proves their generous race.
They, only they, while all around them kneel
In sullen homage to the Thracian steel,
Teach their pale despot's waning moon to fear
The patriot terrors of the mountain spear.

Yes, valorous chiefs, while yet your sabres shine,

The native guard of feeble Palestine,

O ever thus, by no vain boast dismay'd,
Defend the birthright of the cedar shade!
What tho' no more for you the conscious gale
Swells the white bosom of the Tyrian sail;
Tho' now no more your glittering maris unfold
Sidonian dyes and Lusitanian gold;
Tho' not for you the pale and sickly slave
Forgets the light in Ophir's wealthy cave;
Yet your's the lot, in proud contentment blest,
Where cheerful labour leads to tranquil rest.
No robber rage the ripening harvest knows;
And unrestrain'd the generous vintage flows:
Nor less your sons to manliest deeds aspire,
And Asia's mountains glow with Spartan fire.

So when, deep sinking in the rosy main,
The western Sun forsakes the Syrian Plain,
His watery rays refracted lustre shed,

And
pour their latest light on Carmel's head.
Yet shines your praise, amid surrounding
gloom,

As the lone lamp that trembles in the tomb :
For, few the souls that spurn a tyrant's chain,
And small the bounds of freedom's scanty reign.

As the poor outcast on the cheerless wild,
Arabia's parent, clasped her fainting child;
And wander'd near the roof no more her home,
Forbid to linger, yet afraid to roam :

My sorrowing Fancy quits the happier height,
And southward throws her half-averted sight.
For sad the scenes Judæa's plains disclose,
A dreary waste of undistinguished woes:
See War untir'd his crimson pinions spread,
And foul Revenge that tramples on the dead!
Lo, where from far the guarded fountains shine,
Thy tents, Nebaioth, rise, and Kedar, thine;
'Tis your's the boast to mark the stranger's way,
And spur your headlong chargers on the prey,
Or rouse your nightly numbers from afar,
And on the hamlet pour the waste of war ;
Nor spare the hoary head, nor bid your eye
Revere the sacred smile of infancy.

Such now the clans, whose fiery coursers feed Where waves on Kishon's bank the whispering reed;

And their's the soil, where, curling to the skies,
Smokes on Gerizim's mount Samaria's sacrifice.
While Israel's sons, by scorpion curses driven,
Outcasts of earth, and reprobate of heaven,
Through the wide world in hopeless exile stray,
Remorse and shame sole comrades of their way,
In dumb despair their country's wrongs behold,
And, dead to glory, only burn for gold.

O Thou, their Guide, their Father, and their
Lord,

Lov'd for thy mercies, for thy power ador'd!
If at thy name the waves forgot their force,
And refluent Jordan sought his trembling source;
If at thy name like sheep the mountains fled,
And haughty Sirion bow'd his marble head;—
To Israel's woes a pitying ear incline,
And raise from earth thy long-neglected vine!
Her rifled fruits behold the heathen bear,
And wild-wood boars her mangled clusters tear.
Was it for this she stretch'd her peopled reign
From far Euphrates to the western main?
For this, o'er many a hill her boughs she threw,
And her wide arms like goodly cedars grew?
For this, proud Edom slept beneath her shade,
And o'er th' Arabian deep her branches play'd?
O feeble boast of transitory power!
Vain, fruitless trust of Judah's happier hour!
Not such their hope, when through the parted

main

The cloudy wonder led the warrior train:

Not such their hope, when thro' the fields of night
The torch of heaven diffused its friendly light:
Not, when fierce Conquest urg'd the onward war,
And hurl'd stern Canaan from his iron car:
Nor, when five monarchs led to Gibeon's fight,
In rude array, the harness'd Amorite:
Yes-in that hour, by mortal accents stay'd,
The lingering Sun his fiery wheels delay'd;

The moon, obedient, trembled at the sound,
Curb'd her pale car, and check'd her mazy round!
Let Sinai tell-for she beheld his might,
And God's own darkness veil'd her conscious
height:

(He, cherub borne, upon the whirlwind rode,
And the red mountain like a furnace glow'd:)
Let Sinai tell-but who shall dare recite
His praise, his power, eternal, infinite?—
Awe-struck I cease; nor bid my strains aspire,
Or serve his altar with unhallow'd fire.

Such were the cares that watch'd o'er Israel's
fate,

And such the glories of their infant state.
-Triumphant race; and did your power decay?
Fail'd the bright promise of your early day?
No; by that sword, which, red with heathen
gore,

A giant spoil, the stripling champion bore;
By him, the chief to farthest India known,
The mighty master of the ivory throne;

In heaven's own strength, high towering o'er her foes,

Victorious Salem's lion banner rose:

Before her footstool prostrate nations lay,
And vassal tyrants crouch'd beneath her sway.
-And he, the warrior sage, whose restless mind
Through nature's mazes wander'd unconfin'd;
Who every bird, and beast, and insect knew,
And spake of every plant that quaffs the dew;
To him were known-so Hagar's offspring tell-
The powerful sigil and the starry spell;

The midnight call, hell's shadowy legions dread,
And sounds that burst the slumbers of the dead.
Hence all his might; for who could these oppose?
And Tadmor thus, and Syrian Balbec rose.
Yet e'en the works of toiling Genii fall,
And vain was Estakhar's enchanted wall.
In frantic converse with the mournful wind,
There oft the houseless Santon rests reclin'd;
Strange shapes he views, and drinks with wonder

ears

The voices of the dead, and songs of other years.
Such the faint echo of departed praise,

Still sound Arabia's legendary lays;
And thus their fabling bards delight to tell
How lovely were thy tents, O Israel!

For thee his ivory load Behemoth bore,
And far Sofala teem'd with golden ore;
Thine all the Arts that wait on wealth's increase,
Or bask and wanton in the beam of peace.
When Tyber slept beneath the cypress gloom,
And silence held the lonely woods of Rome;
Or ere to Greece the builder's skill was known,
Or the light chissel brush'd the Parian stone;
Yet here fair Science nurs'd her infant fire,
Fann'd by the artist aid of friendly Tyre.
Then tower'd the palace, then in awful state
The Temple rear'd its everlasting gate.