Scorpio, has passed the meridian, at an altitude of about 11°. Ras Algethi and Alhague are nearly on the meridian.

Look towards the south-east, for there the bright star Altair, pre-eminent In the constellation Aquila, or the Eagle, is now visible, nearly between wo stars of the third magnitude, bearing S.E. and N.W. North-east of Aquila is the Dolphin, at 13° or 14°-a beautiful little cluster of about eighteen stars, including five of the third magnitude, and so arranged as to represent the figure of a diamond, pointing N.E. and S.W. The strange appellation of Job's Coffin has been applied to this pleasing constellation. Sagitta and Vulpecula et Anser, or the Fox and Goose, may be observed north and north-west of the Dolphin. Southward of Aquila is Capricornus; and to the south-east Aquarius, though scarcely distinguishable. The Milky Way, which

"Nightly as a circling zone thou seest
Powder'd with stars,"

winds with considerable clearness in the vicinity of Aquila, Vulpecula, Delphinus, and Cygnus.

Those who are abroad in the light nights of this pleasant month may, perhaps, discover the constellations of which we speak.

With the exception of Castor and Pollux, Capella, Lyra, and Cor Caroli, there is little either of poetry or history connected with them. We shall, therefore, introduce our readers to the southern constellations, and reserve the further mention of these to a later period.

The magnificent zones of the southern celestial hemisphere, between fifty and eighty degrees, are especially rich in nebulous stars, as well as in unresolvable nebulæ; and with regard to the starless and desert Southern Pole, the two Magellanic clouds which revolve around it present objects of engrossing interest. The larger, called Nebuleca Major, when examined by the aid of a powerful telescope, presents a collection of innumerable stars, or rather, of irregularly-formed clusters, with nebulæ of various magnitudes, among which occur large nebulous spaces, not resolvable into stars, but rather appearing as luminous clouds in the field of view, athwart which many objects of remarkable and mysterious character are scattered. The Nebuleca Minor is less striking.

Humboldt spoke with enthusiasm of the delight which he felt in contemplating those two solitary and peerless clouds. "Their appearance," said he, "with the brilliant constellations of the Ship, the gentle sweep of the Milky Way between the Scorpion, the Centaur, and the Southern Cross-in short, the graceful and picturesque effect of the sidereal heavens, seen from the plains of Cumana, have left on my mind an ineffaceable impression."

Such were the reflections of this distinguished traveller, to whom, whatever was new, or beautiful, or wonderful on earth, or in the heavens, opened fresh sources of enjoyment; nought of melancholy was associated with them, but feelings rather of hilarity and proud anticipation. He looked forward to the delight of making his countrymen acquainted with new discoveries, or observations pertaining to the stars; of bringing for their inspection the animal or vegetable productions of another hemisphere. Widely different are the feelings of him who is assigned to far-off regions for

a period of uncertain duration, and who, when contemplating the starry heavens, sees among them no one star that has been familiar in childhood, that has looked through uncurtained windows upon his small couch, where he heard his mother's affectionate good night, and received her blessing.

There is, however, according to the testimony of Humboldt, a mountainous portion of our globe, where the traveller or sojourner is permitted to contemplate all the families of plants, and all the stars of the firmament. In the Andes of Cundinamarca, of Quito, and of Peru, he beholds at a single glance, by day, tropical forms of vegetation, and such as pertain to European homes; at night he sees displayed the constellations of the Southern Cross, the Magellanic clouds, and guiding stars of the Northern Bear, that circle round the Arctic Pole.

Forty-five degrees from the Pole comprise the above starry range, and a portion of the Milky Way, which traverses the southern hemisphere with peculiar brilliancy. The Southern Cross consists of five stars-one of the first, two of the second, and one of the fourth magnitude. Four of these form the Cross, the northernmost and southernmost of which are uniformly in a line with the South Pole, and consequently serve to direct the traveller or voyager in southern latitudes, when traversing the vast plains of the New World, or navigating its seas and rivers. They have nearly the same right ascension, and the Cross is therefore almost perpendicular at the moment when it passes the meridian-a fact well known to every nation beyond the tropics, or in the southern hemisphere. This magnificent time-piece advances very regularly nearly four minutes daily, and hence it is well known at what hour of the night it is either inclined or erect. "How often," wrote a modern traveller, "have we heard our guides exclaim in the savannahs of Venezuela, or in the deserts extending from Lima to Truxillo, 'Midnight is past-the Cross begins to bend !' How often, too, did those words remind us of that affecting scene where Paul and Virginia, seated near the source of the river Lotaniers, conversed together for the last time, and when the old man, at the sight of the Southern Cross, warns them that it is time to separate!" Humboldt speaks also with his usual enthusiasm of the exalted feelings that filled his mind on the nights of the 4th and 5th of July, when in the sixteenth degree of latitude he saw distinctly, for the first time, the Cross of the South. It was strongly inclined, and appeared from time to time between the clouds, where summer lightnings, seeming to flash in and out with almost ceaseless activity, produced a unique and most beautiful effect.

CROSS OF THE
SOUTH.

"Oh! 'mid the stars that nightly gem the sky,

Which men have named-their heavenly names unknown,

One starry group doth meet th' inquiring eye

Of him whose steps lead through that stranger zone,

Where palms and citrons cast a grateful shade,
Or far and wide extend the prairies green,

Where neither dale nor hill, nor bower nor glade,
O'er all the vast expanse of grass is seen;

Nor streams are heard, nor of glad birds the song,
But sound of winds that sweep the trackless wastes among.

"That glorious Cross, as if by angels' hands

Upheld in mid air, nightly meets the eye,
With chasten'd beauty beaming o'er all lands,
That wide between the line and tropics lie;
The Indian sees it, as he journeys o'er

The peopled realms his fathers called their own.
The Inca saw it on his palm-clad shore,

The conquering Spaniard in his blood-bought home.

From age to age, o'er men of every clime,

Hath gleam'd that radiant Cross throughout all time."

Still

This beauteous constellation is represented, in the above engraving, near the meridional lines which point opposite to the month of the May. With the exception of the lowermost star, it appears within the limits of the Milky Way. The stars immediately below the Cross pertain to the Centaur; those on the left, opposite to flowery April, with its buds and migratory birds, belong to Robus Caroli, or King Charles's Oak, thus named by some astronomer who pleased himself by associating historic recollections with stars of the southern hemisphere. This constellation contains a star of the first magnitude. Argo Navis, or the Ship, is nearly opposite March. farther to the left, February claims the Flying Fish, or Pisces Volans, which also reveals a star of the first magnitude, named Canopus: this star is marked near the left side of the map, about the middle of the month. On the right hand of the Southern Cross may be seen two stars of the first magnitude, Agena and Bungula, the first being nearest to the Cross. These stars form the two forelegs of the Centaur; they are in the Milky Way, nearly facing the month of June. Opposite the space between July and August, and on the right hand of the Cross and Centaur, are Circinus, or the Compasses; the Southern Triangle also containing three stars of the second magnitude in the form of a triangle; and Ara, or the Altar.

Look now to the upper portion of the map. The constellation Equuleus Pictoria, or the Painter's Easel, consisting of numerous small stars, occupies the left. Next to this, though somewhat higher, is Dorado, or the Sword Fish, which contains two or three stars of the second and third magnitudes. Hydrus, or the Water Snake, shines to the right of Dorado: above this is Achernar, a beautiful star pertaining to Eridanus, and opposite the 1st of December. Toucana, or the American Goose, occupies a position to the

DENEBOLA.

REGULUS

right of Achernar; and higher up is the Phoenix, facing November. The Crane is obvious on the right of Phoenix, having two stars of the second magnitude; below which, and beautiful in its locality, is Pavo, or the Peacock, with stars of the second and third magnitudes. Opposite the month of August, and below the Peacock, is Telescopium, or the Telescope.

An observatory, supported by public expense, has been erected at Paramatta, in New South Wales, in order to ascertain such stars as are concealed from view by southern declination; in reference to which Sir James Herschel mentioned in an assembly,

who met to do him honour upon his return from thence, that he believed there was scarcely any portion of the southern sky which he had not examined with nearly microscopic accuracy.

The beautiful constellation Leo, or the Lion, into which the sun enters during the present month, is now, as it ever was, a symbol of July. The Greek poets rendered it commemorative of the Nemean lion, a furious wild beast that infested an extensive wood near the town of Nemæa, in Argolis. This animal kept the inhabitants in continual apprehension, till Hercules, the celebrated Theban hero, hearing of their distress, went forth to combat with the lion, which he slew; yet not with arrows, for they could not pierce his skin, but with strength of arm. Hercules boldly followed the enraged beast to his den, and after a close and desperate encounter, succeeded in strangling him, after which he carried the huge creature on his shoulders to Mycena, a town of Argolis, and ever after wore the skin as his proudest trophy.

"Two splendid stars of highest dignity"

are conspicuous in the beautiful constellation that bears the name of Leo. The one called Regulus is a star of the first magnitude; the other, Denebola, pertains to the second. The group may be readily distinguished by their vicinity to the Great Bear; they are chiefly situated north of the ecliptic, passing over countries in the torrid zone where the lion ranges unchecked. We have already observed that the long, light nights of July are unfavourable for astronomic observations. The

moon, however, rides in her beauty through the still calm air, and will shortly become an exclusive object of inquiry and interest.

Peerless orb! poets and moralists in all ages have sung concerning thee, but none more ably or more beautifully than the author of Ecclesiasticus.

"who

"Great is the Most High," he sang, made the moon to serve in her season, for a declaration of times, and a sign to the world: the beauty of heaven, the glory of the stars, an ornament giving light in the highest places of the earth."

LUNA THE MOON.

And what more lovely than a moonlit landscape, when the dew silently descends, and the valleys are filled with light, silvery, wreathing mists; when not a sound is heard except the rush of a far-off torrent, and the sweet melodious descant of a solitary nightingale, warbling where all else is still? There is nought of sadness in such a scene, nor yet of loneliness, but rather the awaking of solemn thought, and the uplifting of the heart above earth's holiest contemplations; yea, even above the glorious moon herself, and the deep, calm, pure, and trackless ether in which she moves, where dwell the stars, and thunders make their path, to that unseen world, wherein archangels veil their faces before the throne of the Eternal!

CHAPTER VIII.

AUGUST.

"The moon,

Full-orb'd, and breaking through the scatter'd clouds,
Shows her broad visage in the crimson'd east;
Turn'd to the sun direct her spotted disc,

Where mountains rise, umbrageous vales descend,
And caverns deep (as optic tubes describe)—

A smaller Earth-gives us his blaze again,

Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day.

Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop-
Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime."-THOMSON.

THE moon shines with a reflected light derived from the sun, as first conjectured by Thales, the astronomer of Greece, and now clearly ascertained. The light, however welcome, and suggestive of poetic thoughts, shedding a mild radiance over the landscape, and causing all trees and hills to cast deep shadows, is yet devoid of heat. This fact is readily ascertained by concentrating the rays of the full moon, when on the meridian, by means of a powerful burning-glass, and placing in their focus a small thermometer.

Astronomers relate that the inclination of the moon's axis to the plane of the ecliptic is merely about 11°; her seasons, therefore, are unvariedneither spring nor summer, autumn nor winter, succeeds one the other, and sheds fertility as it passes. Beings constituted like ourselves could not dwell on the moon's surface; she is presumed not to have an atmosphere, as is proved by the fact that no change takes place in the appearance of a star or planet when about to be hidden from view, or occulted—that is, passed over by the moon.

And as regards the general aspect of this world's attendant, those who look at the moon when full must observe that her surface is considerably varied. Seen through a powerful telescope, she appears interspersed with dark spots, ridges, and deep hollows, as represented in the figure at p. 431. The deep hollows are conjectured to be of terrific depth, and are uniformly surrounded by nearly circular hollows, which have no parallel on our globe; they are in number about eighty-nine, and have names given them, commemorative either of remarkable places, or of distinguished individuals. Some astronomers conjecture that the hollows of which we speak are full of water, and that the darkness of their aspect is occasioned by the absorption of the solar rays, while the land reflects them; thus causing that singular diversity on the moon's disc which is apparent to the unassisted eye. Others maintain that there cannot be any water in the moon; a fact, they say, which is obvious from the uniformly serene appearance of this planet-unvexed by fogs or vapours; while the dark portions may be readily accounted for by vast hollows, supposed to be at least three miles deep. Mountains doubtless exist of commanding height, and singularly varied; their lofty summits often reflect the sunbeams, as seen through telescopes. Two or three of the most considerable were observed by Dr. Herschel to be of a volcanic character.

Such, then, is the geographic character of that planet which shines so beau