Fowle's New Hampshire Gazette And General Advertiser

DUBLIN, April 31.

Yesterday being the day of all days appointed to bless the longing eyes of the inhabitants of Dublin with the sight of the most beautiful and most brilliant of all possible balloons!--millions unnumbered, men, women, children, infants of every age, gentle and simple, nobility and mobility, townsmen and gownsmen, wool-scribblers and paper scribblers, captains of ships and captains of men, peace officers, war officers, custom-house officers, counsellors, and privy counsellors, gentlemen's gentlemen, and gentlemen at large, ladies of easy virtue, lords of no virtue, barbers and surgeons (for they are now divided) volunteers, lads of the brush, and of the comb, sheriffs, tarrers, featherers, and attornies, all joined in procession to see the wonderful air balloon at Ranelagh.

How did they go? They went in coaches, they went on foot, they went on horseback, they went in gigs, they went in noddies, in litters, in churns, in dancing masters disobligeants, in sedan chairs, in low-back cars, in wheel-barrows, in bowl-dishes: they walked, they ran, they waded, they flew, they swam, they pushed on, they were pushed on.--Hackney coaches, from No. 317, down to No. 1, inclusive. No, not a cyclops was left in Dublin; trade stagnated, manufacturers starved, lying-in women crying for assistance; payment was stopped at the bank and at publick offices, bankers and all, merchants and all. Doctors and all, all were gone to see the wonderful air balloon at Ranelagh!

But ah! what pen, what goose-wing artillery could do justice to the feelings of those ennobled females, who honoured this unfortunate exhibition with their presence. The societies of Fair Philosophers (for Philosophy is now in fashion) have lost their favourite topic. "Have you seen the balloon at the Rotunda?-- Shan't we see the balloon go up at Ranelagh?--I shall be afraid to look at his balloon when he's mounting," was all the chit-chat of ten days past. Alas! dumb are those mouths where silence never reigned before. The children cried, for Crosbie's balloon could not ascend--the misses tittered, for Crosbie's balloon could not ascend, their Mamma scolded, for Crosbie's balloon could not ascend. Some looked sullen--some looked sulky--some laughed, some sighed--all were affected--438 titled ladies fainted.--Oh! Rutland, speedily add an increase to the nobility, nor let the peerage of Ireland in the next generation suffer, because Crosbie's balloon did not ascend--Crack go the carriages--splash the horsemen--and coach meets coach and jostles in the dirt. Nine men transfixed by poles at the first news of the misfortune--1632 drowned in the mud and over-whelmed by wheels running over--738 missing, dead, or dead drunk, all, thank God, of the populace.