e of this vacuity, whose
boundary-line is 1500 miles, commanding nearly 130,000 square miles,
till I catch Mr Coxwell's eye turned towards me, when I again direct
mine to the instruments; and when I find no further changes are
proceeding, I wave my hand and say, `Pull.'

"A deep resonant sound is heard overhead; a second pull is followed by a
second report, that rings as with shrill accompaniment down the very
sides of the balloon. It is the working of the valve, which causes a
loud booming noise, as from a sounding-board, as the springs force the
shutters back.

"But this sound in that solitary region, amid silence so profound that
no silence on earth is equal to it,--a drum-like sound meeting the ear
from above, from whence we do not usually hear sounds--strikes one
forcibly. It is, however, one sound only; there is no reverberation, no
reflection; and this is characteristic of all sounds in the balloon,--
one clear sound continuing during its vibrations, then gone in a moment.
No sound ever reaches the ear a second time. But though the sound from
the closing of the valve in those silent regions is striking, it is also
cheering,--it is reassuring; it proves all to be right, that the balloon
is sound, that the colder regions have not frozen tight the outlet for
gas, and that we are so far safe. We have descended a mile, and our
feelings improve with the increase of air and warmth. But silence
reigns supreme, and Mr Coxwell, I observe, turns his back upon me,
scanning intently the cloudscape, speculating as to when and where we
shall break through and catch sight of the earth. We have been now two
hours without seeing _terra firma_. How striking and impressive is it
to realise a position such as this; and yet as men of action, whose
province it is to subordinate mere feelings, we refrain from indulging
in sentiment. I say refrain, for presently Mr Coxwell breaks out, no
longer able to contain himself: `Here, Mr Glaisher, you must welcome
another balloon. It is the counterpart of our own.' This spectral
balloon is charming to look upon, and presents itself under a variety of
imposing aspects, which are magnified or diminished by the relative
distance of our balloon from the clouds, and by its position in relation
to the sun, which produces the shadow. At mid-day it is deep down,
almost underneath; but it is more grandly defined towards evening, when
the golden and ruby tints of the declining sun impart a gorg