ent of the original idea.
The balloon of to-day--the balloon in which Coxwell and Glaisher have
made their perilous trips into the remote regions of the air--is in
almost every respect the same as the balloon with which "the physician
Charles," following in the footsteps of the Montgolfiers, astonished
Paris in 1783. There are few more tantalising stories in the annals of
invention than this. So much had been accomplished when Roziers made his
first aerial voyage above the astonished capital of France that all the
rest seemed easy. The new highway appeared to have been thrown open
to the world, and the dullest imagination saw the air thronged with
colossal chariots, bearing travellers in perfect safety, and with more
than the speed of the eagle, from city to city, from country to
country, reckless of all the obstacles--the seas, and rivers, and
mountains--which Nature might have placed in the path of the wayfarer.
But from that moment to the present the prospect which was thus opened
up has remained a vision and nothing more. There are--as those who
visited the Crystal Palace two years ago have reason to know--not a few
men who still believe in the practicability of journeying by air. But,
with hardly an exception, those few have abandoned all idea of utilising
the balloon for this purpose. The graceful "machine" which astonished
the world at its birth remains to this day as beautiful, and as useless
for the purposes of travel, as in the first hour of its history. The day
may come when some one more fortunate than the Montgolfiers may earn the
Duke of Sutherland's offered reward by a successful flight from the Mall
to the top of Stafford House; but when this comes to pass the balloon
will have no share in the honour of the achievement. Not the less,
however, is the story of this wonderful invention worthy of being
recorded. It deserves a place in the history of human enterprise--if
for nothing else--because of the daring courage which it has in so
many cases brought to light. From the days of Roziers down to those of
Coxwell, our aeronauts have fearlessly tempted dangers not less terrible
than those which face the soldier as he enters the imminent deadly
breach; and, as one of the chapters in this volume mournfully proves,
not a few of their number have paid the penalty of their rash courage
with their lives. All the more is it to be regretted that so little
practical good has resulted from their labours and their sacrifi