For the construction of their apparatus they had recourse to an ingenious artificer in copper and other metals, whose child the Brahmin had been instrumental in curing of a chronic disease, and in whose fidelity as well as good will they could securely rely.

"The coppersmith agreed to undertake the work we wanted done, for a moderate compensation, but we did not think it prudent to inform him of our object, which he supposed was to make some philosophical experiment. It was forthwith arranged that he should occasionally visit the Hermit, to receive instructions, as if for the purpose of asking medical advice. During this interval my mind was absorbed with our project; and when in company, I was so thoughtful and abstracted, that it has since seemed strange to me that Sing Fou's suspicions that I was planning my escape were not more excited. At length, by dint of great exertion, in about three months every thing was in readiness, and we determined on the following night to set out on our perilous expedition.

"The machine in which we proposed to embark, was a copper vessel, that would have been an exact cube of six feet, if the corners and edges had not been rounded off. It had an opening large enough to receive our bodies, which was closed by double sliding pannels, with quilted cloth between them. When these were properly adjusted, the machine was perfectly air-tight, and strong enough, by means of iron bars running alternately inside and out, to resist the pressure of the atmosphere, when the machine should be exhausted of its air, as we took the precaution to prove by the aid of an air pump. On the top of the copper chest and on the outside, we had as much of the lunar metal (which I shall henceforth call lunarium) as we found by calculation and experiment, would overcome the weight of the machine, as well as its contents, and take us to the moon on the third day. As the air which the machine contained, would not be sufficient for our respiration more than about six hours, and the chief part of the space we were to pass through was a mere void, we provided ourselves with a sufficient supply, by condensing it in a small globular vessel, made partly of iron and partly of lunarium, to take off its weight. On my return, I gave Mr. Jacob Perkins, who is now in England, a hint of this plan of condensation, and it has there obtained him great celebrity. This fact I should not have thought it worth while to mention, had he not taken the sole merit of the invention to himself, at least I cannot hear that in his numerous public notices he has ever mentioned my name.

"But to return. A small circular window, made of a single piece of thick clear glass, was neatly fitted on each of the six sides. Several pieces of lead were securely fastened to screws which passed through the bottom of the machine as well as a thick plank. The screws were so contrived, that by turning them in one direction, the pieces of lead attached to them were immediately disengaged from the hooks with which they were connected. The pieces of lunarium were fastened in like manner to screws, which passed through the top of the machine; so that by turning them in one direction, those metallic pieces would fly into the air with the velocity of a rocket. The Brahmin took with him a thermometer, two telescopes, one of which projected through the top of the machine, and the other through the bottom; a phosphoric lamp, pen, ink, and paper, and some light refreshments sufficient to supply us for some days.

"The moon was then in her third quarter, and near the zenith: it was, of course, a little after midnight, and when the coppersmith and his family were in their soundest sleep, that we entered the machine. In about an hour more we had the doors secured, and every thing arranged in its place, when, cutting the cords which fastened us to the ground, by means of small steel blades which worked in the ends of other screws, we rose from the earth with a whizzing sound, and a sensation at first of very rapid ascent, but after a short time, we were scarcely sensible of any motion in the machine, except when we changed our places."

After the apprehensions of Atterley, occasioned by the novelty and danger of his situation, had partly subsided, he was enabled, with mingled awe and admiration, to contemplate the magnificent spectacle beneath him. As the earth turned round its axis, during their ascent, every part of its surface came successively under view. At nine o'clock, the whole of India was to the west of them; its rivers resembling small filaments of silver, and the Red Sea a narrow plate of the same metal. The peninsula of India was of a dark, and Arabia of a light, grayer green, and the sun's rays striking on the Atlantic, emitted an effulgence dazzling to the eyes. On looking, some time afterwards, through the telescope, they observed the African Continent, at its northern edge; fringed, as it were, with green; "then a dull white belt marked the great Sahara or Desert, and then it exhibited a deep green to its most southern extremity." The Morea and Grecian Archipelago now fell under their telescope, and gradually the whole Mediterranean, and Arabian Gulf—the great media separating Africa from Europe and Asia; "the political divisions of these quarters of the world were of course undistinguishable, and few of the natural were discernible by the naked eye. The Alps were marked by a white streak, though less bright than the water." By the aid of the glass they could just discern the Danube, the Nile, and "a river which empties itself into the Gulf of Guinea," and which Atterley took to be the Niger; but the other streams were not perceptible. The most conspicuous object of the solid part of the globe was the great Desert; the whole of Africa, however, appeared of a brighter hue than either Asia or Europe.

"I was struck too, with the vast disproportion which the extent of the several countries of the earth bore to the part they had acted in history, and the influence they had exerted on human affairs. The British islands had diminished to a speck, and France was little larger, yet, a few years ago it seemed, at least to us in the United States, as if there were no other nations on the earth. The Brahmin, who was well read in European history, on my making a remark on this subject, reminded me that Athens and Sparta had once obtained almost equal celebrity, although they were so small as not now to be visible. As I slowly passed the telescope over the face of Europe, I pictured to myself the fat, plodding Hollander—the patient, contemplative German—the ingenious, sensual Italian—the temperate Swiss—the haughty, superstitious Spaniard—the sprightly, self-complacent Frenchman—the sullen and reflecting Englishman—who monopolise nearly all the science and literature of the earth, to which they bear so small a proportion. As the Atlantic fell under our view, two faint circles on each side of the equator, were to be perceived by the naked eye. They were less bright than the rest of the ocean. The Brahmin suggested that they might be currents; which brought to my memory Dr. Franklin's conjecture on the subject, now completely verified by this circular line of vapour, as it had been previously rendered probable by the floating substances, which had been occasionally picked up, at great distances from the places where they had been thrown into the ocean. The circle was whiter and more distinct, where the Gulf Stream runs parallel to the American coast, and gradually grew fainter as it passed along the Banks of Newfoundland, to the coast of Europe, where, taking a southerly direction, the line of the circle was barely discernible. A similar circle of vapour, though less defined and complete, was perceived in the South Atlantic Ocean."

By degrees the travellers saw one half of the broad expanse of the Pacific, which glistened like quicksilver or polished steel, and subsequently the middle of the Pacific lay immediately beneath them; the irregular distribution of land and water on the globe, the expanse of Ocean here, being twice as large as in any other part, gives occasion to some amusing discussions on the various theories of cosmogony, to which we can only refer the reader; wearied, however, by these and other discussions, Atterley slept for six hours, and on awaking, found the Brahmin busy in calculating their progress; after which the latter lay down and soon fell into a tranquil sleep, having previously requested that he might be awakened at the expiration of three hours, or sooner if any thing of moment should occur. Atterley now looked down again through the telescope, and found the earth surprisingly diminished in its apparent dimensions, from the increased rapidity of their ascent; the eastern coasts of Asia were still full in view, as well as the whole figure of that extensive continent—of New-Holland, of Ceylon and of Borneo; but the smaller islands were invisible.

"I strained my eye to no purpose, to follow the indentations of the coast, according to the map before me, the great bays and promontories could alone be perceived. The Burman Empire, in one of the insignificant villages of which I had been confined for a few years, was now reduced to a speck. The agreeable hours I had passed with the Brahmin, with the little daughter of Sing Fou, and my rambling over the neighbouring heights, all recurred to my mind, and I almost regretted the pleasures I had relinquished. I tried with more success to beguile the time by making notes in my journal, and after having devoted about an hour to this object, I returned to the telescope, and now took occasion to examine the figure of the earth near the Poles, with a view of discovering whether its form favoured Captain Symmes's theory of an aperture existing there, and I am convinced that that ingenious gentleman is mistaken. Time passed so heavily during these solitary occupations, that I looked at my watch every five minutes, and could scarcely be persuaded it was not out of order. I then took up my little Bible, (which had always been my travelling companion,) read a few chapters in St. Matthew, and found my feelings tranquillized, and my courage increased. The desired hour at length arrived; when, on waking the old man, he alertly raised himself up, and at the first view of the diminished appearance of the earth, observed that our journey was a third over, as to time, but not as to distance."

After having again composed himself to rest for about four hours, Atterley was awakened by the Brahmin, in whose arms he found himself, and, on looking around, discovered that he was lying on what had been the ceiling of the chamber, which still, however, felt like the bottom. The reason of this phenomenon was thus explained to him by the Brahmin—"we have, while you were asleep, passed the middle point between the earth's and the moon's attraction; and we now gravitate less towards our own planet than (to) her satellite. I took the precaution to move you, before you fell by your own gravity, from what was lately the bottom, to that which is now so, and to keep you in this place until you were retained in it by the moon's attraction; for though your fall would have been, at this point, like that of a feather, yet it would have given you some shock and alarm. The machine, therefore, has undergone no change in its position or course;—the change is altogether in our feelings."