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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 04, No. 25, November, 1859"

The advice given by Mr. Bonflon to case
myself in flannels, with an armament at hand of outer winter clothing,
proved well-timed; and yet a period of lassitude, verging on faintness,
invariably followed every considerable exposure to the open air.
But the pleasure of gazing on those fields of space without
obstruction, without the intervention of so much as a plate of crystal
glass, repaid me for every risk and every ill. Though it might be said
there was no scenery there, where nothing was visible but the stars,
yet far beyond the power of mountain and valley, forest and lake,
waterfall and ocean, did that scene, which was no scene, or next to
none, bind me in the spell of its fascination. The motion of our craft,
as we careered noiselessly through the shoreless and objectless void,
without sense of effort or friction, was a charm of itself,--bringing
to a flower, crystallizing into refulgent stars, the dim, obscure,
however glorious, poetry of life. Here were the wildest imaginations of
the dreamer melted in a crucible, and reproduced in living forms of
usefulness and beauty. In my own years of widely diversified
experience, what had I met with to compare with this? Nothing. The
force of steam was marvellous,--talking over a wire mysterious; but here
I was in a great ship riding among the planets and the stars.


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