milar experiments in this country.

But great difficulties stood in his way. Like many other inventors and
would-be airmen, he suffered from lack of funds to build his craft, and
though people whom he approached for financial aid were sympathetic,
many of them were unwilling to subscribe to his venture. At length,
however, by indomitable perseverance, he collected enough money to
defray the cost of building his balloon, and it was arranged that he
should ascend from the Artillery Ground, London, in September, 1784.

His craft was a "Charlier"--that is, it was modelled after the
hydrogen-inflated balloon built by Professor Charles--and it resembled
in shape an enormous pear. A wide hoop encircled the neck of the
envelope, and from this hoop the car was suspended by stout cordage.

It is said that on the day announced for the ascent a crowd of nearly
200,000 had assembled, and that the Prince of Wales was an interested
spectator. Farmers and labourers and, indeed, all classes of people from
the prince down to the humblest subject, were represented, and seldom had
London's citizens been more deeply excited.

Many of them, however, were incredulous, especially when an
insufficiency of gas caused a long delay before the balloon could be
liberated. Fate seemed to be thwarting the plucky Italian at every step.
Even at the last minute, when all arrangements had been perfected as
far as was humanly possible, and the crowd was agog with excitement, it
appeared probable that he would have to postpone the ascent.

It was originally intended that Lunardi should be accompanied by a
passenger; but as there was a shortage of gas the balloon's lifting
power was considerably lessened, and he had to take the trip with a dog
and cat for companions. A perfect ascent was made, and in a few moments
the huge balloon was sailing gracefully in a northerly direction over
innumerable housetops.

This trip was memorable in another way. It was probably the only aerial
cruise where a Royal Council was put off in order to witness the flight.
It is recorded that George the Third was in conference with the Cabinet,
and when news arrived in the Council Chamber that Lunardi was aloft, the
king remarked: "Gentlemen, we may resume our deliberations at pleasure,
but we may never see poor Lunardi again!"

The journey was uneventful; there was a moderate northerly breeze,
and the aeronaut attained a considerable altitude, so that he and
his animals were