In

evening, you will readily see the figure of a climbing monkey, In Perseus I could see a garland of flowers such as my sisters used to make. Orion was a climbing giant in the east,a giant going down hill as he passed over to the west. the Serpent-bearer and the Serpent I saw a monstrous sword, shaped like the curved sabre which Saladin wielded and so forth. No doubt, in the infancy of astronomy, or the world itself, men were fanciful in the same way, and the figures

they assigned to the star groups really seemed pictured in the heavens. Add to this the consideration that it would not be among the stars overhead, but among those towards the horizon, that they would imagine such shapes, and I think we can understand where and how they saw a dragon in the stars shown in the lower part of our northern map. It was not such a nondescript as Fig. 5 which they saw, but really a snake-like figure; and for my own part I have no doubt whatever that the stars ẞ and γ were the eyes of the dragon they imagined, and that its head was pictured

in their imagination somewhat as shown in Fig. 6.* On referring to the northern map, you will see that I have borrowed a star from Hercules to make the snake's head complete. But that does not trouble my mind in the least. The idea of separating the constellations one from another was a much later one than that of merely naming the more remarkable star-groups. If one set of stars seemed to resemble any object, and another set to resemble another object, I think the corresponding. names would have been given even though some stars of one set were included within the other set. In fact this very constellation of the Dragon seems to me to show that our modern constellation figures have been largely reduced in extent. When I look northward at the Dragon placed as in the northern map, I see not a mere snake with his

Fig. 6

head as in Fig. 5, but a monstrous winged serpent, as in Fig. 7; only, to make the figure complete, I have to take in a large piece from the Little Bear. The stars thus borrowed make a great wing for the Dragon; the stars w, y, 15, etc., of the Dragon make another wing; and the neck, body, and tail run from through ŋ, 6, ɩ and a to λ.

L

You may, perhaps, think that it matters very little what figures the ancients really imagined among the stars. But you will be disposed to think differently when I mention that the supposed want of resemblance now between the star-groups and the figures assigned to them, has led some to form the bold idea that there was once a strong resemblance, but that some stars have gone out, others have shone forth more strongly or are altogether new, and that thus the resemblance has been destroyed. When we remember that our sun is only one among the vast number of suns, it becomes rather a serious matter for the inhabitants of the earth if so many suns have really changed. For, in that case, our sun may soon change in his turn, and either broil us up with excess of heat or leave us to perish miserably from extremity of cold. However, I think the explanation which I have given shows that the resemblance formerly imagined still remains, and that it is only because modern astronomy has docked the dimensions of the old figures that they no longer correspond with their names.

Above the Dragon we see the Lesser Bear, the two Guardians of the Pole, ẞ and y, having swung round a little past the lowest part of their circuit. Approaching the north froin the left are the stars of Cepheus, which will in a month or two be more favourably placed for study. Notice the glory of the "milky way" overhead. Looking that way, also, the very bright star Capella will attract your notice. It belongs to the constellation Auriga, or "the Charioteer." There is a nearly vacant space between Auriga and Ursa Minor, which seems to show that in that direction the system of stars to which our sun belongs is not so richly strewn with suns as elsewhere. And although, when a telescope is

turned toward this region, hundreds and thousands of stars are brought into view, yet not nearly so many are seen as when the same telescope is directed toward Perseus or Cassiopeia.

And now turning our back upon the Pole-star, let us look toward the south (see the southern map, p. 37). The mighty river Eridanus occupies nearly the whole space between the equator and the southern horizon. This constellation, which is one of the most ancient star-groups, is a great deal too large; it has not room to turn itself. Observe how poor Bayer (the astronomer who first gave to the stars of each constellation the letters of the Greek alphabet) was perplexed by the large number of stars he had to deal with. There are seven Taus (in reality there are nine but the other two are small), and five Upsilons are shown (out of seven), while several stars which ought to have received their proper Greek letters, have been only numbered.

Above Eridanus is the fine constellation Taurus, or “the Bull," belonging to the zodiacal twelve which mark the road-way of the sun and planets. The sun's path, or ecliptic, is marked on the map, the portion shown being that which he traverses in May and June. The symbol ¤ represents the signs of "the Twins," the sun entering that sign, on his course toward the left shown by the arrow, about the 21st of May-which is, therefore, not the time to look for Taurus or the Pleiades, seeing that the sun is shining in the midst of their region of the heavens. The sign of Gemini, used formerly to agree with the constellation of "the Twins," but now, as the map shows, falls upon Taurus.

The group of stars called the Pleiades is one of the most interesting objects in the heavens. In former times they were thought to exert very important influences on the weather, probably because when the sun was in Taurus, which then corresponded with the end of April, it was a time when all Nature seemed to spring into activity.

Admiral Smyth says that the passage in Job, translated, "Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion ?" etc., should be rendered thus:

"Canst thou shut up the delightful teemings of Chimah?

Or the contractions of Chesil canst thou open?"

Chimah representing Taurus, or the constellation occupied by the sun (in Job's time) in spring (April and May); while Chesil is not Orion, but Scorpio, the constellation which in Job's time was occupied by the sun in autumn (October and November). It is interesting to notice the ancients thus regarding the stellar influences, as exerted, not when the stars in question are visible in the night-time, but when their rays are combined with those of the sun, which also was the way in which astrologers regarded the stars. Taurus now shines highest in the skies at midnight towards the end of November, but in Job's time six or seven weeks earlier. Hesiod, speaking of their return to the night skies after being lost in the sun's rays, which in his day would be in early autumn, says:

"There is a time when forty days they lie,

And forty nights, conceal'd from human eye:
But in the course of the revolving year,

When the swain sharps the scythe, again appear."

With the telescope, more than two hundred stars can be seen in this group. To ordinary vision, six only are visible. Yet many persons see seven, not a few can see nine or ten, and Kepler tells us that Moestlin could count no less than fourteen stars, without telescopic aid.

The bright and somewhat ruddy star Aldebaran is in the head of the Bull, formed by the closely clustering group between Aldebaran, e and y. This group is called the Hyades, from a Greek word signifying rain, the influence of these stars being considered showery. The two stars 8 and form the tips of the bull's horns.