No need of sacred bread and wine,

Of hymns, and psalms, and prayers supine, And penances and fasts, whereby our nature

bleeds.

We should obey ourselves alone,

Nor ask what paths have others trod;
God wants no sign to know His own,
Nor they to know their God!
Better, far better now

The dew upon my brow,

Than all the ancient use and wont

Of water from the holy font,
Though shed by holiest hands on earth,
The symbol of a heavenly birth.

To me 'tis worthless, weak and vain,
Beside the Baptism of the rain,
Poured from the Eternal Hands,

In benediction spread o'er Earth and all its lands!
The bread and wine of quiet thought

Is sacrament enough for me;
Enough the Temple of the world,

The sky, the land, the sea :

Whether the Spring performs its dewy rite, Whether the Summer binds her brow with leaves;

Whether the Autumn stands amid the sheaves; Or whether Winter plucks his locks of white. God speaks to me in shouting winds;

And in the waves that shoreward come;
And in the little insect's hum,

And in the still small voice of human minds.
The year, with all its train of nights and days
Is a perpetual service in His praise;

Morn comes from Him, as came the seers of

yore,

With fiery messages of awe and love;

From Him the Noon, upon its mount above, Brooding o'er men like Christ, transfigured evermore!

And Night, incarnate Night,

Forever veiled and calm,

Eldest of all created shapes that be,

Night, reads in silence her eternal psalm, The gospel of the darkness, penned in light, The starred evangel of infinity!

The road to Heaven is broader than the world,

And deeper than the kingdoms of the dead; And up its ample paths the nations tread, With all their banners furled:

No saint nor angel sits beside its gate,

Holding the key within his griping hands: The golden gate of Heaven wide open stands, Not to be closed again by earthly hate. And evermore, with all their grief and sin,

The souls keep pouring in,

Singing melodious psalms,

While angels pitch their tents beneath the hea

venly palms,

For such is Nature's law, the sure and only Fate!

There be who love not Nature, souls forlorn,
Who see no beauty in the smiling morn,—
No joy in noon, no tenderness in night,

No pillared cloud of light!

Not such the little child, nor such the youth
Who has not done his childly nature wrong:
These Nature loves, and these she leads through

realms of truth,

For ever flushed with atmospheres of song: And Song herself, that in the after years Doth shed her mantle on elected men,

Song walks with us, and wakes our happiest tears,

For all are poets then.

Can I forget the wonder, and the joy,

That Nature roused within me, when a boy? The gush of feelings, pure and undefiled,— The deep and rapturous gladness,—

The nameless sadness,

The Vision that overpowered the visionary child' Forget! forget! the very hour I do,

May Heaven forget me too!

May Nature shut me in her wastes apart, And press me,-never more on her materna. heart!

O Nature! Nature! I have worshipped thee From being's dimmest dawn,-perchance be fore,

Or ere my spirit touched this earthly shore,
Or time began with me.

When but a babe, (so say the ancient crones Who nursed me then.) I watched the sky hours,

Smiled at the clouds, and laughed in glee a:

showers,

And wept aloud when winds began their moats, And when I went alone with trembling tread.

I sought the garden walks, with wondering mind,

Perplexed to hear the fluting of the wind
In branches overhead:

I loved the wind, I loved the whispering trees,
And loved their shadowy shifting images,
And loved the spots of light that lay like smiles
Around the green arcades, and leafy forest aisles.
With bolder steps I tracked the meadows, deep
In fragrant grasses, decked with daisies white.
And marked the mist on many a mountais
height,

Melting away like Sleep!

The larks went up before me, and behind,
But not so fast as songs within my tuneful mind'
Through sweeps of landscape, over lawns and

plains,

And where the birches walled their silver lanes
I passed, and down the gradual slope of vales.
Where tangled waters told their drowsy tales;
The river lay below in azure rest,
Sparkled the lake with lilies on its breast,
And where the jutting rocks o'errimmed the wall
Of abrupt gulfs, I saw the waterfall

With clouds of vapour blent,

A column of white light, a snow-like monument!
It mattered little where I went,
Everywhere I was content;
Everywhere I saw and heard
Sights and sounds divine;

The sea may wash a rocky shore,

We shall not wait in vain;

I go not there to learn, but for mine own delight! Yet do I learn what books can never teach,

Nor any words express;

A mystic love, a wordless speech-
For Nature teaches so,-in sacred silentness!
Thought may wander in the dark,
Dove-like from the spirit's ark,
Over a boundless ocean-space,
And find no resting-place;
And we may murmur in despair,
"Rest is none, nor refuge there"-
But we still are Nature's care;
And some fair morning we arise
On a summit, near the skies,

Above the waves and winds,
The world of truth before our eyes,
And in our minds.

And Truth by one discerned is Truth no less
Than if ten thousand saw, and bowed,
And offered her their anthems loud,
Which show, not make her holiness:
And no less sovereign in her solitude

To bless the good, and all who would be good.
Sometimes for days I dream, and seem to rest,
But 'tis an idle seeming,
For in our idlest dreaming,
Asleep on Nature's breast,
Our souls are waking, working as before,
And must be working, working evermore.

Many thoughts are vast for speech,
Many things no thought can reach ;
We sink its plummet in the sea,—
It mocks us, like Eternity!

But if with patient hearts we wait,
Like almoners at Nature's gate,

With her own hands she will repair our needs, And bid us come again.

And when we seem asleep in dreams,

Our deepest lore is caught,-
For Truth within man's nature dwells,
Her fabled fount, her well of wells,

Her crystal deep of thought!

In silent thought, that yearns to find a tongue, Burthened with cares, and racked with cureless pains,

I rove to-day through Nature's wide domains,
No longer gay and young;

No longer moved with feelings undefiled,—
No more, no more a child!

But wherefore grieve? The Past is past,
Nor can the Present always last;

It sows the Future in its seeds.

And flowers will grow, where grow the weeds;

And suns will shine, and dews will fall; And Love, the sum of human needs,—

Love, comes to all!

Yea! even comes, so universal he,

To me, to even me!

Then let me dry again these gathering tears,
These bitter tears, and turn, Beloved, to thee;
For thee to live, and die, in future years,
As thou for only me!

Meanwhile my thoughts to meditation given,—
A many-sided mirror, broad and clear,
Reflect whatever meets my vision here,
The myriad shapes and hues of earth, and
heaven;

Diffused through all, like odours in the wind.
My mind the Universe, the Universe my Mind—
In silence climbing up the peaks by angels troc.
From deep to deep in Nature's steep that ends at

last with God,

From world to world, from star to star, beneath the feet of God!

MAY-DAY rosy-sunlight, golden,
Floods the earth with radiance fair;
Distant chimes, from belfry olden,

Float upon the morning air; Birdlings sweet, in tree-tops singing, Break the hush of forests greenCrystal brook from hollow springing Sparkles in the May-day beam.

On my listening ear is falling,

Sounds of joy, a silvery voice From the far-off village calling"Lo! 'tis May-day-love, rejoice!" Then, from shaded lattice peeping,

Lovely face looks out with glee; Roguish hand through roses creeping, Showers the crimson leaves on me.

Eoline, with bright eyes shining Like the quivering stars of night! Eoline, with dark locks twining 'Round thy forehead, pure and white!

Thou with me art gone a Maying
In the forest, green and wide;
Thou with me art fondly straying
By the brooklet's sunny side.

And when from my spirit, gushing,
Flows the story of my love,
Thou dost listen, tearful, blushing-
Toying with thy tiny glove.
When I kneel before thee, suing

For thy young heart, Eoline, Thou dost answer to my wooing"Love, I love thee-I am thine.”

Fairer May-day, light more golden, Never beamed on earth before! Far-off bell, in turret olden,

Never pealed so sweet of yore! For this morn, when out a Maying, I did win thee, Eoline!

By the brooklet idly straying, Hearkening to the distant chime.

I.

My Ascension at Frankfort-The Balloon, the Gas, the Apparatus, the Ballast-An Unexpected Travelling Companion-Conversation in the Air-Anecdotes-At 800 Metres-The Portfolio of the Pale Young ManPictures and Caricatures-Des Rosiers and M. d'Arlandes-At 1200 Metres-Atmospheric Phenomena The Philosopher Charles-Systems-Blanchard-Guyton-Morveaux-M. Julien-M. Petin-At 1500 Metres -The Storm-Great Personages in Balloons-The Valve-The Curious Animals-The Aerial ShipGame of Balloons.

In the month of September, 1850, I arrived at Frankfort-on-the-Maine. My passage through the principal cities of Germany, had been brilliantly marked by aerostatic ascensions; but, up to this day, no inhabitant of the Confederation had accompanied me, and the successful experiments at Paris of Messrs. Green, Godard, and Poitevin, had failed to induce the grave Germans to attempt aerial voyages.

Meanwhile, hardly had the news of my approaching ascension circulated throughout Frankfort, than three persons of note asked the favour of accompanying me. Two days after, we were to ascend from the Place de la Comédie. I immediately occupied myself with the preparations. My balloon, of gigantic proportions, was of silk, coated with gutta percha, a substance not liable to injury from acids or gas, and of absolute impermeability. Some trifling rents were mended: the inevitable results of perilous descents.

The day of our ascension was that of the great fair of September, which attracts all the world to Frankfort. The apparatus for filling was composed of six hogsheads arranged around a large vat, hermetically sealed. The hydrogen gas, evolved by the contact of water with iron and sulphuric acid, passed from the first reservoirs to the second, and thence into the immense globe, which was thus gradually inflated. These preparations occupied all the morning, and about 11 o'clock, the balloon was three-quarters full; sufficiently so, for as we rise, the atmospheric layers diminish in density, and the gas, confined within the aerostat, acquiring more elasticity, might otherwise burst its envelope. My calculations had furnished me with the exact measurement of gas required to carry my companions and myself to a considerable height.

We were to ascend at noon. It was truly a magnificent spectacle, that of the impatient crowd who thronged around the reserved enclosure, inundated the entire square and adjoining streets, and covered the neighbouring houses from the basements to the slated roofs. The high winds of past days had lulled, and an overpowering heat was radiating from an unclouded sky; not a breath animated the atmosphere. In such weather, one might descend in the very spot he had Jeft.

I carried three hundred pounds of ballast, in

* A metre is equal to 39-33 English inches.

bags; the car, perfectly round, four feet in diameter, and three feet in height, was conveniently attached; the cord which sustained it was symmetrically extended from the upper hemisphere of the aerostat; the compass was in its place, the barometer suspended to the iron hoop which surrounded the supporting cords, at a distance of eight feet above the car; the anchor carefully prepared;-all was in readiness for our departure. [

Among the persons who crowded around the enclosure, I remarked a young man with pale face and agitated features. I was struck with his appearance. He had been an assiduous spectator of my ascensions in several cities of Germany. His uneasy air and his extraordinary pre-occupation never left him; he eagerly contemplated the curious machine, which rested motionless at a few feet from the ground, and remained silent.

The clock struck twelve! This was the hour. My compagnons du voyage had not appeared. I sent to the dwelling of each, and learned that one had started for Hamburg, another for Vienna, and the third, still more fearful, for London. Their hearts had failed them at the moment of undertaking one of those excursions, which, since the ingenious experiments of aeronauts, are deprived of all danger. As they made, as it were, a part of the programme of the fête, they had feared being compelled to fulfil their agreements, and had fled at the moment of ascension. Their courage had been in inverse ratio to the square of their swiftness in retreat.

The crowd, thus partly disappointed, were shouting with anger and impatience. I did not hesitate to ascend alone. To re-establish the equilibrium between the specific gravity of the balloon and the weight to be raised, I substituted other bags of sand for my expected companions, and entered the car. The twelve men who were holding the aerostat by twelve cords fastened to the equatorial circle, let them slip between their fingers; the car rose a few feet above the ground. There was not a breath of wind, and the atmosphere, heavy as lead, seemed insurmountable.

"All is ready!" exclaimed I; "attention!" The men arranged themselves; a last glance informed me that everything was right. "Attention!"

There was some movement in the crowd, which seemed to be invading the reserved en

closure.

"Let go!"

"To converse with you."

The barometer had fallen to twenty-six inches; we had attained a height of about six hundred metres, and were over the city; which satisfied me of our complete quiescence, for I could not judge by our motionless flags. Nothing betrays the horizontal voyage of a balloon; it is the mass of air surrounding it which moves. A kind of wavering heat bathed the objects extended at our feet, and gave their outlines an indistinctness to be regretted. The needle of the compass indicated a slight tendency to float towards the south.

I looked again at my companion. He was a man of thirty, simply clad; the bold outlines of his features betokened indomitable energy; he appeared very muscular. Absorbed in the emotion of this silent suspension, he remained immovable, seeking to distinguish the objects which passed beneath his view.

"Vexatious mist!" said he, at the expiration of a few moments.

I made no reply.

. "What would you? I could not pay for my voyage; I was obliged to take you by surprise." "No one has asked you to descend!"

"A similar occurrence," he resumed, "happened to the Counts of Laurencin and Dampierre, when they ascended at Lyons, on the 15th of January, 1784. A young merchant, named Fontaine, scaled the railing, at the risk of upsetting the equipage. He accomplished the voyage, and nobody was killed!"

"Once on the earth, we will converse!" said I, piqued at the tone of lightness with which he spoke.

"Bah! do not talk of returning!" "Do you think then that I shall delay my descent?"

"Descent!" said he, with surprise.

"Let us

"Here we are at 800 metres! Men resemble insects! See, I think it is from this height that we should always look at them, to judge correctly of their moral proportions! The Place de la Comédie is transformed to an immense ant-hill Look at the crowd piled up on the quays. The Zeil diminishes. We are above the church of Dom. The Mein is now only a white line dividing the city, and this bridge, the Mein-Brucke, looks like a white thread thrown between the two banks of the river."

The atmosphere grew cooler.

"There is nothing I will not do for you, my host," said my companion. "If you are cold, I will take off my clothes and lend them to you." "Thanks!"

Necessity makes laws. Give me your hand. I am your countryman. You shall be instructed by my company, and my conversation shall compensate you for the annoyance I have caused you."

I seated myself, without replying, at the oppo site extremity of the car. The young man had drawn from his great coat a voluminous portfolio; it was a work on aerostation.

"I possess," said he, "a most curious collection of engravings and caricatures appertaining to our aerial mania. This precious discovery has been at once admired and ridiculed. Fortunately we have passed the period when the Mongolfiers sought to make factitious clouds with the vapour of water; and of the gas affecting electric properties, which they produced by the combustion of damp straw with chopped wool."

"Would you detract from the merit of these inventions?" replied I. "Was it not well done to have proved by experiment the possibility of rising in the air?”

"Who denies the glory of the first aerial navigators? Immense courage was necessary to as cend by means of those fragile envelopes which contained only warm air. Besides, has not aerostatic science made great progress since the ascensions of Blanchard? Look, Monsieur."

He took from his collection an engraving.

'Here is the first aerial voyage undertaken by Pilatre des Rosiers and the Marquis d'Arlandes, four months after the discovery of balloons. Louis XVI. refused his consent to this voyage; two condemned criminals were to have first attempted aerial travelling. Pilatre des Rosiers was indignant at this injustice, and, by means of artifice, succeeded in setting out. This car, which renders the management of the balloon easy, had not then been invented; a circular gallery surrounded the lower part of the aerostat. The two aeronauts stationed themselves at the extremities of this gallery. The damp straw with which it was filled encumbered their movements A chafing-dish was suspended beneath the orifice of the balloon; when the voyagers wished to ascend, they threw, with a long fork, straw upon this brazier, at the risk of burning the machine, and the air, growing warmer, gave to the balloon a new ascensional force. The two bold navi gators ascended, on the 21st of November, 1785 from the gardens of La Muette, which the Dauphin had placed at their disposal. The aerostat rose majestically, passed the Isle des Cygnes, crossed the Seine at the Barrière de ia