A FEW years ago a Frenchman, apostrophizing the Genius of Humanity as none but a Frenchman can do, took the liberty of reproaching that metaphorical being for its extreme backwardness in one department of duty. He called upon it to "march," an injunction which his countrymen are so fond of issuing that they sometimes forget to tell you where, or to state the reason why. The present age, he intimated, demanded this movement: the coming generations would be greatly disappointed if it were not accomplished. "One effort," said he encouragingly to the Genius, "and the future is thine (l'avenir tappartient)!" The crooked places, he promised, should be made straight, and the rough ones delightfully smooth. There should be no more mountains (Pyrenees

Travels in the Air. By JAMES GLAISHER, F.R.S., CAMILLE FLAMMARION, W. DE FONVIELLE, and GASTON TISSANDIER. Edited by JAMES GLAISHER, F. R.S. With 125 illustrations. London: Richard Bentley & Son. 1871. NEW SERIES.-VOL. XIV., No. 6.

or otherwise), and the valleys should become as level as the plains!

How is it that a

And what does the reader suppose was the duty in respect of which the genius in question was so shamefully in arrear? It was, said M. Farcot, in the matter of aërostation. How is it, asked this individual, somewhat sharply, that man, who is so anxious to conquer everything and everybody (except, we might add, himself), should not have made greater exertion to subdue the sole element which continues in a state of rebellion? being who has such magnificent forces at command, and can traverse the ocean with an ease and a rapidity which the fleetest denizens of the deep cannot surpass, should suffer himself to be outstripped in the air by an insignificant fly? M. Farcot could not comprehend it; M. Farcot would not submit to it. He therefore offered his services to mankind as the precursor of a new era, in which the balloon was to become the prominent figure,

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and entreated the object of his invocation to wake up, and with a single bound to overleap the gulf that lay between it and its greatest triumphs.

We are not in a position to state whether the genius in question listened favorably to M. Farcot's fervid appeal; but it is certain that his hopes have not yet been realized. The balloon has always appeared to possess such splendid capabilities that it is no wonder its admirers never weary of predicting a brilliant future for the machine. Considering the prominent part which Frenchmen have played in the history of aërostation, it will be readily understood that the apparatus commenced its career with a dash and élan which led mankind to anticipate that it would accomplish marvellous things, and become one of the foremost agents in the great work of civilization. Our lively neighbors, ever on the alert for glory until their recent misfortunes, and probably so still, were charmed with the idea of conquering a new region, though it contained nothing but clouds, and were by no means insensible to the vanity of riding in the air, though in most cases they went up, like their famous sovereign, simply to come down again.

Many years have elapsed-nearly a century-since Pilâtre de Rozier and the Marquis d'Arlandes made their daring voyage into the atmosphere in the car of a fire-balloon, this being the first excursion ever attempted by living creatures, if we except three anonymous animals, a sheep, a duck, and a cock, which were sent up in the previous month, and returned in safety to the earth. But as yet, though the machine has rendered considerable service to science, and will doubtless assist in the solution of many interesting problems, it is a thing of promise rather than of performance. It is still in a rudimentary state, and should be received, says Mr. Glaisher, simply "as the first principle of some aërial instrument which remains to be suggested." Potentially, it may include the germ of some great invention, just as Hiero's eolipile and Lord Worcester's "water-commanding" engine contained a prophecy of the most masterly of human machines-the steam giants of Watt. But to apply the well-known metaphor of Franklin, when asked what was the use of a balloon, we may say that the "infant" has not grown up into a man.

Within the last twelve months, however, this largest of human toys-the plaything of pleasure-seekers, and the cynosure of all eyes at fêtes and tea-gardens-has been converted into a useful machine, though under the pressure of circumstances which every philanthropist must deeply deplore.

Of course, when the balloon was presented to mankind, one of the first thoughts which suggested itself to our combative race was this-"Can we turn it to any account in war? Will it assist us in killing our enemies, or capturing their fortresses?" And when we remember that the machine was reared amongst the most military people in Europe, can we doubt that as Napoleon's great question respecting the Simplon road was whether it would carry cannon, so the chief point with a Frenchman would be, whether a bailoon could be rendered of any service in a battle? Not many years were suffered to elapse before regular experiments were instituted with this view. An aërostatic school was established at Meudon, a company of aeronauts, under the command of Colonel Coutelle, was formed, and a number of balloons constructed by Couté were distributed amongst the divisions of the French Army, not even forgetting the troops despatched to Egypt. At the sieges of Maubeuge, Charleroi, Mannheim, and Ehrenbreitstein the invention was found to be of some value for purposes of reconnoitring; and previous to the battle of Fleurus, Coutelle and an officer spent several hours in the air, studying the positions of the Austrians, and this with such effect that their information materially assisted General Jourdan in gaining the victory. The machine was, of course, held. captive during the process, but its tether was easily extended by means of a windlass, and thus the occupants were enabled to soar above the enemy's fire.

More than once it has been proposed to build huge balloons, and freight them with shells and other missiles, which might be conveniently dropped down upon a hostile corps, or "plumped" into the midst of a beleaguered town. With a view to the demolition of the fortress of St. Juan de Ulloa, during the war between Mexico and the United States, Mr. Wise suggested the construction of an enormous air-ship, which was to carry up a quantity of bombs and torpedoes, and, whilst

securely moored in the atmosphere by means of a cable several miles in length, it would be in a position to rain down death upon the devoted place. To its honor, however, the American Government declined the use of such an aërial battery.

Fortunately we think we may say for tunately for the interests of mankind, the balloon has not succeeded to any considerable extent as a military machine. Even the Jesuit Lana felt inclined to weep over his abortive project (he did pray over it) when he considered how easy it would be for warlike marauders to set the stoutest walls and ramparts at defiance, and to hurl destruction into any city they might select. Let us hope that the balloon is destined for more pacific purposes. The range of modern guns, and the difficulty of manoeuvring so rudderless an apparatus, seem to cut it off from a career of glory. If employed for purposes of reconnoitring purely, and kept in a captive condition, it may occasionally render service by darting suddenly into the atmosphere, and taking a glimpse of the enemy's position or movements. But, then, a tethered balloon, as M. de Fonvielle intimates, belongs neither to the air nor the earth; it is a creature compelled to serve two masters, and therefore cannot do its duty to either; but, whilst attempting to obey the commands of its rulers below, it is forced to yield to the caprice of the breezes above. If free, asks M. Simonin, and if the wind were everything the aërial heroes could wish; if, moreover, the balloon, charged with the most formidable fulminates, were carried direct to the hostile camp, could they expect to find the enemy massed for a review or a manœuvre precisely at the spot over which they sailed, and could they time their discharges so beautifully, having due regard to the speed of the machine, that their projectiles should explode at the most fit ting moment for damaging their foes? Happily, in neither of the two greatest struggles of recent times-how recent none need say, for the scent of blood is yet on the soil of Virginia, and the bones of Teuton and Gaul still lie blended on the fields of France-has the balloon brought itself into formidable confederacy with Krupp cannon or the murderous mitrailleuse.

War, however, the greatest of scourges, is sometimes compelled, in the good provi

dence of God, to yield an incidental harvest of blessings. Liberty has often been intrusted to the keeping of the bayonet, and civilization has more than once depended upon the explosive virtues of charcoal and saltpetre. It is not impossible that the recent investment of Paris may ultimately lead to the development of aërial navigation on a scale which would gladden the heart of M. Farcot, and almost satisfy the expectations of some of the greatest enthusiasts in the art. We allude, of course, to the employment of the balloon for postal purposes. During the recent siege of that city- we mean, of course, by the Germans, and not by Frenchmen themselves-upwards of fifty of these aërial packets sailed from the beleaguered metropolis with despatches for the outer world. They conveyed about two and a half millions of letters, representing a total weight of about ten tons. Most of them took out a number of pigeons, which were intended to act as postmen from the provinces. One, called Le Général Faidherbe, was furnished with four shepherds' dogs, which it was hoped would break through the Prussian lines, carrying with them precious communications concealed under their collars. The greater number of these balloons were under the management of seamen, sometimes solitary ones, whose nautical training, it was naturally supposed, would qualify them more especially for the duties of aërial navigation. More than one fell into the hands of the enemy, having dropped down right amongst the Prussians. In some of these cases the crews were generally made prisoners, but in others they effected their escape; and more than once their despatches were preserved in a very remarkable way-in one instance being secreted in a dung-cart, and in another being rescued by a forester, and conveyed to Buffet, the aëronaut of the Archimède, who had been sent out in search of them, and had traversed the hostile lines on his errand. Many of these postal vessels were carried to a considerable distance, some landing in Belgium, Holland, or Bavaria ; whilst one, La Ville d'Orléans, was swept into Norway, and came to anchor about 600 miles north of Christiania. A few, unhappily, never landed at all. Le Jacquard, which left the Orleans railway station on the 28th November, with a bold sailor for its sole

occupant, disappeared like many a gallant ship. It was last observed above Rochelle, and probably foundered at sea, as some of its papers were picked up in the Channel. Le Jules Favre (the second of that name), which set out two days subsequently, has arrived nowhere as yet; and one of the last of these mail-balloons, the Richard Wallace, is missing, as much as if it had sailed off the planet into infinite space. So long as these machines continued to be launched by day, they were exposed to a fusillade whilst traversing the girdle of the Prussian guns, the bullets whistling round them even at an elevation of 900 or 1,000 mètres. To avoid this peril it became necessary to start them by night, although the disadvantages of nocturnal expeditions, in which no light could be carried, and consequently the barometer could not be duly read, were held by many to outweigh all the dangers attaching to German projectiles.

Let us

now attempt an imaginary voyage through the air, availing ourselves as much as possible of the experience of the gentlemen whose excursions are chronicled in the work which heads this article. A more attractive volume cannot well be imagined. It is the production of one Englishman and three Frenchmen. Mr. Glaisher is well known, in companionship with Mr. Coxwell, as our greatest authority on the subject. All his visits to the clouds have been for scientific purposes, and if the question,

Quis crederet unquam Aerias hominem carpere posse vias? could be put in reference to any man, it might surely be applied to him, for he has had the honor of ascending higher than any other mortal from Icarus to GayLussac. MM. Flammarion, Fonvielle, and Tissandier are all enthusiasts in the matter of ballooning; the second of these gentlemen having expressed his willingness to be shot up into the air in connection with a sky-rocket, provided its projectile force could be duly regulated and a proper parachute were attached. In the narratives of their numerous ascents, there is necessarily some degree of sameness; but the whole are not only thoroughly readable, but thoroughly enjoyable to the last. The illustrations to the book are really superb. As a mere portfolio of sky-sketches, it is well worth

the price. Not unreasonably indeed, one of the writers expressed his hope that the work will form a kind of epoch in the history of the subject, "for it is the first time that artists have gone up in balloons for the purpose of familiarizing the eyes of the public with a series of aerial scenes." We have charts of triple texture, showing, first, the path of the machine through the air; secondly, the geography of the country over which it passed; and thirdly, the gradations of light and darkness during the expedition, these being so arranged as to answer point for point. We have also pictures in which the balloon is seen in almost every phase of adventuresweeping through the clouds, plodding through the falling snow, cruising amongst the stars by night, exploding in the sky, plunging into the sea, dragging on the ground, caught in the trees, stranded amongst the sheepfolds, or tumbling upon the coast and struggling madly to escape the pursuing billows. But we have also some gorgeous views of cloud-land, with its marvellous scenery; now silvered with the pale radiance of the moon or the stars, now drenched in the golden glories of the setting sun-at one time darkening into night under the gathering thunder-storm, at another fantastically illuminated with haloes, and many-tinted spectra; and through all these wonderful fields of air, a tiny sphere, a mere bubble of the sky, with a bubble or two of human breath attached, may be seen pursuing its noiseless way as if it had escaped forever from this turbulent earth.

Before we start, however, the great question is, Dare we start at all? Well might the first aërial navigator, like the anonymous hero qui fragilem truci commisit pelago ratem primus, shudder at his own audacity as he launched his miserable vessel upon the untraversed deep. When it was first determined to send up some human beings to the clouds in a Montgolfier, it was by no means an unnatural suggestion that the experiment should be tried upon a couple of criminals; but French valor would not permit even French rascality to carry off the honor of the exploit, and Pilâtre de Rozier indignantly protested that vile malefactors ought not to have "the glory of being the first to rise in the air." Brave men, however, whose courage could not be impeached even in the fieriest hour of battle, have been known to shrink

from a balloon when they would have calmly faced a battery. A gallant fieldmarshal, says Flammarion, "who had never hesitated to advance through the discharge of cannon and musketry," declared more than once that he would not, for a whole empire, ascend even in a captive machine! On the other hand, it is related of an old woman (who had been an inmate of Lambeth workhouse for forty years, and who, on losing her son at the age of seventy-five, exclaimed, "I felt sure I should never bring up that poor child!") that being asked on her hundredth birthday what treat she would like by way of celebrating the occasion, the ancient female decided upon an excursion in the great balloon then tethered at Chelsea. Her wish was granted, and she enjoyed a ride in the atmosphere at the foot of this huge floating gasometer, which was fettered to the earth by a cable two thousand feet in length. The fair sex, indeed, have never exhibited much timidity in dealing with balloons. Out of the seven hundred persons carried up in the air at various times by the veteran Green, not less than one hundred and twenty were females. "If," hinted he to Fonvielle, "you wish balloons to become popular in France, begin by taking women in them; men will be sure to follow!" Does not this accord to the letter with George Stephenson's dictum, that feminine influence would draw a man from the other side of the globe when nothing else would move him? Not that we think the advice was specially needed for France, for the first lady who made an ascent was a Frenchwoman, Mme. Thiblé; and the first lady who met her death on an aërial excursion was Mme. Blanchard, who belonged to the same nation.

possible to sympathize with M. Flammarion in his heroics when he imagines an acronaut addressing it in language of mingled insult and adulation :—

"Inert and formless thing, that I can now trample under my feet, that I can tear with my hands, here stretched dead upon the ground-my perfect slave-I am about to give thee life, that thou mayest become my sovereign! In the height of my generosity I shall make thee even greater than myself! O vile and powerless thing! I shall abandon hands, and thou shalt carry my kingdom unmyself to thy majesty, O creature of my to thine own element, which I have created for thee; thou shalt fly off to the regions of storms and tempests, and I shall be forced to follow thee! I shall become thy plaything; thou shalt do what thou wilt with me, and forget that I gave thee life!"

For many reasons, carburetted hydrogen, or coal gas, is the agent employed to give levity to the machine. In the earlier days of aërostation, hydrogen presented strong temptations. It is the lightest of the gases, being upwards of fourteen times rarer than atmospheric air, and therefore it was naturally regarded as the element best fitted to do man's bidding, and to drag him nearest to the stars. But hydrogen is an expensive article, and needs an elaborate apparatus for its production, whereas coal gas is burnt in every civilized street, and may be obtained in any quantity by connecting a flexible tube with the nearest tap. In the still darker ages of aëronautic science, it is well known that heated air was the element employed; and, going back into yet more benighted times, we find that Father Lana proposed to give buoyancy to copper globes by filling them, as an Hibernian once remarked with a vacuum; whilst another worthy Père, Galien of Avignon, gravely suggested that balloons should be inflated with attenuated air, brought down from mountain-tops in bags prepared for the purpose, in which case they would, of course, ascend to similar heights!

Let us now enter the car. The huge monster above us is swaying to and fro in the breeze, and struggling for freedom like some giant soul which has done its work on earth and is eager to reach its native skies. The cords which hold us

we grasp the nearest rope, or hold fast to the wicker-work, to secure ourselves from the effects of our sudden translation-we