barometer, and afterward remembered pretty nearly the direction of its hand; its reading confirms the conclusion got by the other method. A minimum thermometer agreed in the same result. They landed safely at about twenty minutes to three, the whole excursion having taken only a little over an hour and a half. The illustration called “Mr. Glaisher insensible at the height of seven miles” is one of the most remarkable in the book, and most readers will probable turn to it repeatedly. It represents the supreme and critical moment; Mr. Coxwell is in the ring, and is just loosening the valve-rope. His hands, his companion tells us, were black when he came down; and Mr. Glaisher generally means what he says.

It is not every one who will care to compete with these gentlemen in making lofty ascents; and it is not probable that they had any merely ambitious motives in undertaking to soar so high. Mr. Glaisher’s enthusiasm for and interest in science are perfectly genuine; and his results, which are of course only hinted at in these popular accounts which he gives of his excursions, are very valuable. It is not likely that any one else could have accomplished so much as he did. Still, though they were not led on by ambition, their achievement on the occasion just mentioned is one which must discourage others who may be; for it would be very difficult and dangerous to attempt to do purposely what they did only as it were accidentally, and which they would not have done had they known its peril. There are, it is true, some remarkable effects, such as the blackening of the sky (as well as of the hands of the aeronauts), which cannot be so well attained at lower altitudes; but still, substantially the same can be enjoyed at heights of four or five

miles, and really the most beautiful ones are presented as soon as we rise above the clouds. The effect seems to us, judging from the illustrations, to be especially magical when the canopy (or carpet, as it may more properly be called from our new point of view) is complete, so as to reach to the horizon, and shut out all view or idea of the earth completely. Many of the pictures illustrate this well. One would seem to lose all sense of height or of being in a dangerous position; the quiet sea of clouds beneath can never seem very distant, owing to the impossibility of judging of the real dimensions of its rolling waves; and these waves seem, by their apparent solidity yet softness, almost to invite a fall. And one seems to be entirely in a new state of existence; the change is more complete than could be obtained by travelling to the other side of the globe; and yet it can be realized in the space of five or ten minutes on any ordinary cloudy day. There above, with the dark-blue sky overhead, with the glorious bright sun in it lighting up the masses of white vapor below, far from all the dust, noise, and confusion of the lower sphere, what an exhilaration must the aeronaut feel, if indeed his eye is not entirely employed on the divisions of his barometer and the pages of his note-book! The idea of such a vision is almost enough to make one’s enthusiasm for ballooning equal that of M. de Fonvielle, who, however, was willing to put up even with lower elevations; for he says that in his younger days he “was ready to be shut up in a sky-rocket, provided that its projectile power were carefully calculated, and that it were provided with a parachute”! If the sky-rocket could only be sent above the clouds—but, on the whole, one would probably be calmer, enjoy the view

more thoroughly, and take in its various features better, in the car of our present beautiful and majestic, though somewhat unmanageable, vehicle.

And yet in all respects the balloon is not unmanageable. Its rise and fall can be regulated with great exactness; and by means of the pretty invention of the guide-rope, due to the celebrated English aeronaut, Mr. Green, its final fall to the earth, if a violent wind is not blowing, can be made very easy. This rope hangs down three or four hundred feet below the car, and as it touches the ground, and then coils up upon it, the weight and the descending power of the balloon are continually and gradually lessened. And by parting with gas or ballast, the ascent and descent can always be most carefully adjusted; so much so, indeed, that one has to be somewhat careful. Once M. Tissandier, on making a second ascent with no more ascending power at his disposal, was obliged to regret that he had not gone without his breakfast; the least little alteration of weight affects the equilibrium so much that the loss of a chicken-bone which he thoughtlessly once threw out, he says, “certainly caused us to rise from twenty to thirty yards.” One can certainly rise or fall without much difficulty; the only danger is that too much gas may escape after the ballast is exhausted, or when there is only a small supply on hand, and that the descent may be too rapid. Mr. Glaisher twice at least came down so hard as to break nearly all his instruments; but once this was in a manner intentional, for the wind had been drifting him out toward the sea, and on discovering through an opening in the clouds that it was almost directly under him, he had only the alternative of coming down with a

rush or being drowned. On another occasion, M. de Fonvielle descended with a party in the Giant balloon in a rapid and inevitable manner, owing to the escape of gas; but records, besides the breaking of the instruments, only that “one of the travellers had his face covered with blood, another was wounded by a thermometer, and a third complained of a pain in his leg.” One curious danger there is, however, about even a quiet descent which is worth noticing. The last-named gentleman had just made a very successful excursion without an aeronaut; and, on coming down, his grapnel had caught in a tree near the edge of a forest. The sequel shall be in his own words:

“At this moment, I was deceived by an optical illusion which might have had dangerous results, and I call the attention of my readers to it in case they may ever be tempted to undertake the management of an aerostat. Let them never get out of the car till it is fairly landed upon the soil. Let them be perfectly sure that no solution of continuity exists between the car and the earth before they think of stepping out of it, for their eyes, accustomed to the immense proportions of things above the clouds, have lost their power of appreciating dimensions. Objects appear so small on the earth’s surface during a descent that great trees look like mere blades of grass. At this moment I believed we had descended upon heath bushes, and we were at the top of the high trees. I had actually got one leg out of the car, and was preparing to leap down!”

If a strong wind is blowing, it is not so easy to descend. The horizontal motion of the balloon is beyond the control of gas or ballast. MM. de Fonvielle and Tissandier set out once in a high wind; they came down on a plain, were dragged across it, and over the tops of some trees, which broke and crashed as they passed; again they rushed over some ploughed

ground, where they were finally rescued by some peasants. What was their velocity during this remarkable trip? On consulting maps and watches, they found they had come forty-eight miles from Paris in thirty-five minutes, or the rate of eighty miles an hour; in the air, however, they probably travelled faster, and in the last five minutes of “dragging” not so fast.

But “dragging” is not the worst thing that can happen when there is a high wind. Let aeronauts beware how they attempt to anchor in such circumstances before coming tolerably near to the ground. The grapnel was once let out at the height of about sixty yards when they were skimming along with great velocity, and at first took no hold, but finally caught in the edge of a small pond. The wind, however, took revenge on the balloon, which now suddenly refused to obey its impulse: