N the fifth of June, 1783, the town of Annonay was in a state of extraordinary excitement. A man named Mongolfier had promised to exhibit a balloon ascension. At the appointed hour, a globe constructed of linen and paper soared into the air, and in ten minutes was at a height of two thousand metres, and at a horizontal distance of more than half a league, with an initial force of two hundred

and fifty kilogrammes. The globe or arostat was large enough to contain twelve hundred cubic measures of rarefied air.

When this was ascertained at Paris, it excited admiration mingled with surprise. The members of the Academy of Sciences resolved to repeat the experiment at their own expense and on a larger scale.

Meanwhile, subscriptions were taken up on all sides for the construction of another balloon of vast dimensions. Charles, a professor of experimental physics, and Robert, a mechanician, were charged with the execution of this vast design. After a close examination of all Mongolfier's details, Mr. Charles substituted silk, covered with gum, for linen and paper. The gas employed by Mongolfier was produced by burning straw and wool under the balloon: this appeared to him so dangerous, that in its place he made use of hydrogen gas.

On the 27th of August, of the same year, less than three months after the Annonay experiment, an immense crowd assembled in the Champ de Mars, and waited impatiently for the ascension of Charles' and Roberts' balloon. The air resounded with repeated acclamations. The balloon, first balancing itself at the height of five or six feet from the ground, soared aloft, and in two minutes gained a height of one thousand metres, and, ascending rapidly to a prodigious height, alighted, in its downward course, at Gonnesse, a village five leagues distant from its starting-point.

On the 24th of November, a new arostat ascended in the Park of La Muette. Pilâtre du Rosier, and the Marquis of Garlande, went, also, in a small bark attached to the globe, which bore Mongolfier's name. Hitherto, no human being had ventured upon this perilous voyage, although many poor animals had been forced to undergo its terrors.

On the 1st of December following, Charles and Robert renewed their bold attempt, and ascended from the garden of the Tuileries, travelling over a space of seven leagues in a few minutes. Upon beholding this spectacle, the crowd was seized

with an emotion of admiration and fear. According to a historian, men, women, and children fell on their knees and raised their hands to heaven in motionless astonishment, until the prolonged success of the ascension drew from them the most enthusiastic acclamations.

These ascensions were perilous, and required great caution. Charles' method was considered superior to that of Mongolfier. Nevertheless, the balloon of the latter had numerous partisans, at the head of whom was Pilâtre, who, a short time afterwards, venturing to cross, with a Mongolfier, from Dover to Calais, fell a victim to his own temerity; for the covering of the balloon took fire, and the unfortunate man, half-burnt, was precipitated to the ground, on the road to Calais, near Boulogne, and killed.

This melancholy circumstance gave a decided preference to the other balloon.

"Of what use are balloons ?" asked some one of Dr. Franklin. "Of what use is a new-born child?" retorted the inventor of the lightning-rod.

CHAPTER XI.

PARMENTIER.

N the year 1783, the alimentary arts received important additions. Potatoes had hitherto been considered dangerous as an article of food, and, according to the popular belief, would produce leprosy, and other dreadful diseases. Besides, they exhausted a good soil, and could not be produced in a poor one. Whilst the northern nations cultivated them, France rejected their use as pernicious.

Parmentier resolved to combat this prejudice in spite of the obstacles which he knew would oppose him. He applied to Louis XVI. for permission to plant potatoes on a piece of sterile ground, of about fifty acres, at Sablons. It was believed to be difficult to cultivate them; Parmentier wished to prove the contrary. His potatoes succeeded admirably. He had confided them to this arid soil, in the hope of proving, beyond a doubt, that he was in the right, and he awaited the time of flowering with great impatience.

Surprised at his own success, Parmentier culled the first flower, and hastened to Versailles, where he presented it to the monarch. Louis XVI. accepted the offering with a gracious smile, and placed it in his button-hole, regardless of the sneers of his courtiers.

Parmentier's efforts were crowned with success from that time, and the potato took the name of parmentiere.

"The potato," says Sir Joseph Banks, "which is now in common use, was brought to England by the colonists, sent by Sir Walter Raleigh, with Queen Elizabeth's permission, to discover and cultivate, in America, new countries not in the possession of Christians. It is probable that those vessels of Sir Wal

ter's, which set sail in 1584, brought the potato to England on their return in 1586."

Once introduced into France, it was cultivated in gardens as a curiosity; but prejudice was, for a long time, stronger than reason. At the present day, the potato, at first called the parmentiere in France, is in constant use among the poor as well as the rich.

To Parmentier is also owing the propagation of maize and of chestnuts in France.