“O Anna! Anna!” exclaimed Gutenberg, distressed for her, “dost thou see these bits of wood? I have cut a letter on the end of each. I fasten them together thus;” and he held up the type of the word _bonus_. “I ink them, and press them on paper thus. See how beautifully they print;” and he showed the word impressed in clear characters. “But is it not presumption to trust longer to uncertainties?” cried Anna; “they cannot bring food into the house. We are poor.” “My Anna,” soothingly said the kind husband, “dost thou forget that I have conceived a great invention, and that thou art really as rich as a queen?” “O, the wild dream!” returned Anna, smiling through her tears, comforted by his sympathy, “I shall trust it when it pays our debts, and feeds and clothes us. We are verily poor, and I see not how vain imaginings can help us.” “But, dear, my patrimony is not all gone. I have land still unsold at Mentz; and as I cannot realize money from these immediately, I promise thee that if this invention does not help our affairs in a month, I will relinquish it for the present, and return to polishing gems for a livelihood.” It was a rough and thorny way that the inventor trod, reaching after that great gift which God held out to man, and no wonder that Anna, in this time of trial, pleaded with him to turn back, watering his path with her tears. Gutenberg slept little the night of the revelation of movable type. He deemed the invention most important; and before his mind, stimulated to unusual action, some of the great changes which would ensue from his discovery, were dimly portrayed. Like the prophets who understood not the full import of their own utterances, but inquired diligently to know what the spirit which was in them did signify, so the discoverer of the wonderful art could only hope that it was the introduction of something glorious; and that hope was thenceforth his guiding star amid the darkness of his earthly lot. With the first ray of morning he was at his work, to test more fully the new types. Setting them up, he fastened them together, and printed the same words as before. _Bonus homo_ shone with the halo of _eureka_ to Gutenberg’s eye. “I have found it!” he exclaimed, and, starting off to market, brought home food for the day. Gustav Nieritz, a German writer, thus describes Gutenberg’s progress:--