only awaiting the gun
signal that was to announce the moment for its departure. To allow of
his gaining the refreshment of somewhat purer air he begged his
friends who were holding the car of his balloon in restraint to keep it
suspended at a few feet from the earth, while he rested himself within,
and, this being done, it would appear that he fell into a doze, from
which he did not awake till he found that the balloon, which had slipped
from his friends' hold, was already high above the crowd and requiring
his prompt attention. This was, however, by no means an untoward
accident, and Green's triumph was complete. By this one venture alone
the success of the new method was entirely assured. The cost of the
inflation had been reduced ten-fold, the labour and uncertainty a
hundred-fold, and, over and above all, the confidence of the public was
restored. It is little wonder, then, that in the years that now follow
we find the balloon returning to all the favour it had enjoyed in its
palmiest days. But Green proved himself something more than a practical
balloonist of the first rank. He brought to the aid of his profession
ideas which were matured by due thought and scientifically sound. It is
true he still clung for a while to the antiquated notion that mechanical
means could, with advantage, be used to cause a balloon to ascend or
descend, or to alter its direction in a tranquil atmosphere. But he
saw clearly that the true method of navigating a balloon should be by a
study of upper currents, and this he was able to put to practical proof
on a memorable occasion, and in a striking manner, as we shall presently
relate.

He learned the lesson early in his career while acquiring facts and
experience, unassisted, in a number of solitary voyages made from
different parts of the country. Among these he is careful to record an
occasion when, making a day-light ascent from Boston, Lincolnshire,
he maintained a lofty course, which promised to take him direct to
Grantham; but, presently descending to a lower level, and his balloon
diverging at an angle of some 45 degrees, he now headed for Newark. This
experience he stored away.

A month later we find him making a night voyage from Vauxhall Gardens,
destined to be the scene of many memorable ascents in the near future;
and on this occasion he gave proof of his capability as a close and
intelligent observer. It was a July night, near 11 p.m., moonless and
cloudy, yet the earth wa