remark is applicable to some of the other ingenious attempts which preceded his great discovery. For a time, however, plan succeeded plan, each being abandoned in turn, as new and more plausible theories struck his fancy, and in this way did he persevele, for many months, with various degrees of success, but without the necessary results; and he at last relinquished this course of experiments altogether, as presenting too many obstacles to be overcome by an individual in his circumstances.

Disappointed, but not disheartened, in not having been so successful in his operations as he had anticipated, we next find him attempting to realize his hopes by substituting plates of copper and tin for his metal and composition blocks; but this second course of experiments was attended with little better success than the former; for, after much labor, and numerous trials with the etching needle, and by writing on the copper with different chymical inks of his own composition, this medium was found to be liable to all the objections which had deterred him from prosecuting the stereotype plan. Being, however, still of the opinion that his object was to be accomplished by art alone, and having laid aside his copper plates for a time as too expensive, he began to look around for a substitute which would supply their place for all the purposes of practice, and at a much less cost. He was not long in determining this point; for, being aware that certain kinds of stone had often been used for similar purposes, he converted the slab on which he ground his colors into a plate for exercising in writing, and found it answered his expectations completely. Experiments now followed each other in rapid succession, all tending to encourage him in the prosecution of his design; and when at length these stone plates were

rendered fit for undergoing the operations of the printing press, he was greatly pleased to find that numerous impressions might be taken on paper, without materially injuring the original.

We shall now at once advert to the time when circumstances conspired to force upon his attention those properties of the art which, on their first unfolding themselves, so astonished and delighted him. "I had (says he) just succeeded in my little laboratory in polishing a stone plate which I intended to cover with etching ground, in order to continue my exercises in writing backwards, when my mother entered the room, and desired me to write her a bill for the washer-woman, who was waiting for the linI happened not to have even the smallest slip of paper at hand, as my little stock of paper had been entirely exhausted by taking proof-impressions from the stones; nor was there even a drop of ink in the inkstand. As the matter would not admit of delay, and we had nobody in the house to send for a supply of the deficient materials, I resolved to write the list with my chemical ink, on the stone which I had just polished, and from which I could copy it at leisure."

en.

When about to remove this writing from the stone some time afterwards, the idea struck him, that, by submitting its surface to the action of aquafortis, such an elevation might be given to the writing as would render it suitable, in the same way as woodengravings, for receiving printing ink. The experiment exceeded his most sanguine hopes, and he lost no time in following up his success with others, all tending to convince him that he had discovered a new and important art.

Thus it will be seen, that, to a very simple oc

currence in itself, Senefelder was indebted for the

hint on which hinged all his succeeding improve

ments.

Having now briefly adverted to some of the leading incidents which ultimately led to the discovery of chemical lithography, we shall next proceed to the notice of such particulars concerning the progress of the new art under the fostering care of its author, as may be thought generally interesting.

Let it not be imagined that Senefelder's difficulties ceased with this discovery: the fact is otherwise; for, in addition to the many obstacles which he had to combat from lacking the necessary funds for the prosecution of his labors, others were not wanting of a nature equally serious, and which were to him the source of long and painful anxiety. Among the rest, it was not a little annoying to know that others were beginning to lay claim to the merit of a new discovery But these, and other particulars connected with this part of our subject, must form matter for a future article.

THE ITALIAN SLEEP-WALKER.

In the recently-published cheap and elegant edition of Goldsmith's works, forming part of the series of publications entitled "The British Library," we are presented with many pieces not hitherto generally known as the productions of the ingenious author of the Vicar of Wakefield. Among others, is the following little sketch, descriptive of a remarkable instance of walking in sleep:

It has often been a question in the schools, whether it be preferable to be a king by day, and a beggar in our dreams by night; or, inverting the question, a beggar by day, and a monarch while

sleeping? It has been usually decided, that the sleeping monarch was the happiest man, since he is supposed to enjoy all his happiness without contamination; while the monarch in reality feels the various inconveniences that attend his station.

However this may be, there are none sure more miserable than those who enjoy neither situation with any degree of comfort, but feel all the inconveniences of want and poverty by day, while they find a repetition of their misery in a dream. Of this kind was the famous Cyrillo Padovano, of whom a long life has been written; a man, if I may so express it, of a double character, who acted a very different part by night from what he professed in the day. Cyrillo was a native of Padua, in Italy, a little brown-complexioned man, and, while awake, remarkable for his simplicity, probity, piety, and candor; but, unfortunately for him, his dreams were of the strongest kind, and seemed to overturn the whole system of waking morality; for he every night walked in his sleep, and, upon such occasions, was a thief, a robber, and a plunderer of the dead.

The first remarkable exploit we are told of Cyrillo, was at the university, where he showed no great marks of learning, though some of assiduity. Upon a certain occasion, his master set him a very long and very difficult exercise, which Cyrillo found it impossible, as he supposed, to execute. Depressed with this opinion, and in certain expectation of being chastised the next day, he went to bed quite dejected and uneasy; but awaking in the morning, to his great surprise he found his exercise, com pletely and perfectly finished, lying upon his table, and, still more extraordinary, written in his own hand. This information he communicated to his master when he gave up his task, who, being equal

G

ly astonished with him, resolved to try him the next day with a longer and a more difficult task, and to watch him at night when he retired to rest. Accordingly, Cyrillo was seen going to bed with great uneasiness, and soon was heard to sleep profoundly: but this did not continue long: for, in about an hour after he lay down, he got up, lighted his candle, and sat down to study, where he completed his work as before.

A mind like Cyrillo's, not naturally very strong, and never at rest, began, when he arrived at manhood, to become gloomy, solicitous, and desponding. In consequence of this turn of thinking, he resolved to leave the world and turn Carthusian, which is the most rigorous of all the religious orders. Formed for a severe and abstemious life, he was here seen to set lessons of piety to the whole convent, and to show that he deserved the approbation as well of his fellows in seclusion as of the whole order. But this good fame did not last long; for it was soon found that Cyrillo walked by night, and, as we are told of the fabled Penelope, undid in his sleep all the good actions for which he had been celebrated by day. The first pranks he played were of a light nature, very little more than running about from chamber to chamber, and talking a little more loosely than became one of his professed piety. As it is against the rules of the fraternity to confine any man by force to his cell, he was permitted in this manner to walk about; and though there was nothing very edifying in his sleeping conversation, yet the convent were content to overlook and pity his infirmities.

Being carefully observed upon one of these occasions, the following circumstances offered:-One