P.S. [By Mr. Ainsworth.] I have little to record, except the fact (to me quite a surprising one) that, at an elevation equal to that of Cotopaxi, I experienced neither very intense cold, nor headache, nor difficulty of breathing; neither, I find, did Mr. Mason, nor Mr. Holland, nor Sir Everard.  Mr. Osborne complained of constriction of the chest — but this soon wore off.  We have flown at a great rate during the day, and we must be more than half way across the Atlantic.  We have passed over some twenty or thirty vessels of various kinds, and all seem to be delightfully astonished.  Crossing the ocean in a balloon is not so difficult a feat after all. Omne ignotum pro magnifico.  Mem: at 25,000 feet elevation the sky appears nearly black, and the stars are distinctly visible; while the sea does not seem convex (as one might suppose) but absolutely and most unequivocally concave.{*1}

“Monday, the 8th. [Mr. Mason’s MS.] This morning we had again some little trouble with the rod of the propeller, which must be entirely remodelled, for fear of serious accident — I mean the steel rod — not the vanes.  The latter could not be improved.  The wind has been blowing steadily and strongly from the north-east all day and so far fortune seems bent upon favoring us.  Just before day, we were all somewhat alarmed at some odd noises and concussions in the balloon, accompanied with the apparent rapid subsidence of the whole machine.  These phenomena were occasioned by the expansion of the gas, through increase of heat in the atmosphere, and the consequent disruption of the minute particles of ice with which the network had become encrusted during the night.  Threw down several bottles to the vessels below.  Saw one of them picked up by a large ship — seemingly one of the New York line packets.  Endeavored to make out her name, but could not be sure of it.  Mr. Osborne’s telescope made it out something like “Atalanta.”  It is now 12, at night, and we are still going nearly west, at a rapid pace.  The sea is peculiarly phosphorescent.

“P.S. [By Mr. Ainsworth.] It is now 2, A.M., and nearly calm, as well as I can judge — but it is very difficult to determine this point, since we move with the air so completely.  I have not slept since quitting Wheal-Vor, but can stand it no longer, and must take a nap.  We cannot be far from the American coast.

“Tuesday, the 9_th_. [Mr. Ainsworth’s MS.] One, P.M.  We are in full view of the low coast of South Carolina.  The great problem is accomplished.  We have crossed the Atlantic — fairly and easily crossed it in a balloon!  God be praised!  Who shall say that anything is impossible hereafter?”