they point to Aldebaran, the great star in the eye of the Bull; look onwards still in the same direction, and your eye rests upon the farfamed group of the Pleiades, of which we have just read in Aratus. I have, on next page, provided you with a somewhat enlarged chart of this family of Atlas. There are the mythic parents, Atlas and Pleione, and their seven daughters, Alcyone, Caleno, Merope, Besides these seven, Dr. Heis, with his practised eyes ("oculus meus jure acer nominandus est "), secs four others. But the astronomer has in this respect been outdone by Miss Airy, the daughter of our present most eminent Astronomer Royal. In the year 1863 she is authentically recorded to have seen and approximately mapped down from sight, twelve stars. Her star I have ventured to call Ariel, which name I hope it may retain ; I have not intended by any means to include this lady among the family group, not notable for their happiness; but her star stands apart, with great propriety looking on. Gentle reader, try your own eye; I here present you with the little chart. But you must not suppose these twelve stars constitute all the members of the group. At Oxford we have occupied several months in assigning with extreme accuracy the position of forty such: but upwards of 625 have been seen. Our object in making these delicate measures, is to provide the astronomers of the future with the means of detecting any possible cosmical movements among these stars. But now, leaving the Pleiades-who, by the way, have no real claim whatever to contain The Pleiades. ing among them the centre, or centre of gravity, of the universe, notwithstanding the dictum of one astronomer and of many divines-turn your eye eastward along the two stars in Orion's shoulders, and there is Procyon, rightly so named, as being the precursor of the rising of the Dog-star, Sirius: again, a line drawn from Rigel, in the giant's foot, through the bright star Betelgeuse, in the eastern shoulder, leads to the famous twins, Castor and Pollux, a constellation dear to the ancient sailor; and under whose auspices the Apostle Paul was carried in safety, after his shipwreck, from Melita to the superb Mole, now, alas! in ruins, at Puteoli. An imaginary line drawn upwards through the midst of the giant's figure, conducts the eye to the bright star Capella, in the Goat carried by the charioteer Auriga. Close thereto are two little stars, marked (n) and (), they are in the Goat's two little Kids (Hædi) stars of ominous import at their first visible rising before sunrise, to the navigators of the Mediterranean. Horace, in one of the loveliest and most harmonious of his lyric poems, sings thus of them : In fact, so intermixed were the aspects of the stars with the every-day affairs of Roman life that it were easy to fill our pages with quotations, readily occurring with pleasant associations to the scholar.* A line drawn from Capella through Castor lights upon Regulus, the bright star in Leo, a symbol to the old Romans of the summer heats.* In this constellation you will observe the configuration of certain stars. into the rude shape of a sickle, with Regulus at the extremity of the handle. It is from a point within this sickle that the fiery flakes of the November star-shower appear to emanate. The fact being that the earth at this period of the year is moving towards this point in Leo; its atmosphere grinds periodically against the components of a comet's huge tail circulating round the sun, which the earth meets with in this region, and thus ignites them by friction. This radiant point in Leo, is the perspective. vanishing point" of all the parallel lines of fiery hail or luminous snow, which form the annual phenomenon of the November Star Shower. Low down in the north-east is Vega, the bright star in Lyra, and there are few brighter stars in the heavens. This star in the latitude of Greenwich never sets; it skirts along the horizon almost grazing it, but in its course it rises almost to the zenith, forming one of the most charming objects in northern skies. Onwards towards the east, Hercules is rising, whose strange picture as of a "Labouring Man" upon his knees we shall in due time see, threatening to strike the Lyre with his club. Lastly, again low down in the eastern horizon, the grand star Arcturus is rising, and between him and Hercules is the beautiful circlet of small stars forming the Northern Crown: its brightest ornament is well-named Gemma. A line drawn from Betelgeuse, the bright star in Orion's eastern shoulder through Aldebaran, conducts to the constellation Arics, once famous for its position close to the vernal equinoctial point, some two thousand years ago. combined action of the moon and sun upon the earth's equatorial protuberance, continually shifts the permanent axis of the earth's diurnal rotation (and with it of course the equator), causing the axis to point to successive portions of the sky and to successive stars within it. The sun ever continues to move (apparently) in the same annual circuit among the constellations, very nearly; in the time of the great astronomer Hipparchus, B.C. * See Horace, Car. 29, lib. iii., &c. The 150, he crossed the celestial equator (thereby causing spring) in the constellation Aries; but now the equator crosses the sun's path one constellation westwards (Pisces). The constellation Aries itself is by no means conspicuous, containing one star only of the second magnitude, and two or three of the fourth, forming a sort of obtuse triangle. If the line just described drawn from Betelgeuse through Aldebaran and Aries be continued still farther it will conduct to the brightest star in Andromeda, a conspicuous and interesting constellation, in the map and in the sky recognisable by three bright stars almost in a straight line. I shall have more to say about her sad mythic tale when I come to the more northerly constellations, and then I shall point out more advantageous allineations whereby to recognise her position in the sky. These bright stars in Andromeda lead upwards in a line directly through the constellation Perseus, whose lucida form the figure of the letter J, leading unmistakably to Capella, already described. The Star Chart will indicate to you where to look in this constellation for the star named Algol, remarkable for its rapid variability in brightness. If, gentle reader, you have patience, and the will, and good fortune, you may, with your own eyes, see this strange star change from the brightness of a second magnitude star to that of an inconspicuous fourth, in the course of three or four hours; and after a similar period, regain its former lustre. The cause of this remarkable variation of light is at present unknown. There may be opaque bodies circulating round it and comparatively close to its own mass; or it possibly may have huge dark areas on its surface presenting themselves to our sight in succession as it revolves; or its luminous photosphere may be subjected to periodical chemical changes. All is uncertain in these respects. But there are many other stars subject to considerable variations of lustre; possibly our own sun, itself shining only as a star to other stars, may be subjected to some such alterations of light and heat. Several phenomena, and among them the disastrous severity of recent seasons, would thereby receive an explanation: but wherein consists the cause of the variations? We have now completed together a considerable survey of the sky before us, and we may turn our faces to the north. But before so doing, it may be well to notice how easy it is now to trace the apparent motion of the sun among the stars now visible to us and before us. In May the sun will be in Aries (Y); in June he will pass through Taurus (8); in July through Gemini (II); in August through the inconspicuous constellation of Cancer (); in September through Leo (); in October through the constellation Virgo (m), close to Spica, now just about to rise above our horizon. All these bright constellations amidst which we have been so long, and, it is hoped, so pleasantly detained, will, in the summer and autumn, have vanished from our sight, overpowered by the sun's brighter rays. And yet there they are, still in the firmament and still are shining, still visible (many of them) in full daylight, plainly discernible in telescopes properly directed. For these stars are suns, just as intrinsically bright and large as our own. Gentle reader, before we part we will weigh one or two of them ! ! And yet again, before turning our backs on the glorious scene of the celestial lights before us, in order that we may thereby view other constellations of equal interest and of even greater familiarity, because in Europe they never set, let me say a few words in explanation of the maps before you. The chart (c) containing the constellations heretofore referred to, was formed by imagining the eye to be situated in the centre of a drum, the axis of which points to the North Pole. The convex side and the flat top of this drum are then conceived to be perforated with holes, so that each star should be visible through its own proper perforation. The convex surface of this drum is then supposed to be cut, and being unfolded forms the chart (c) before you. The flat top, containing stars which never set, forms the map (1) of the more northerly constellations. On these maps, in order to prevent confusion, I have set down only the brighter of the stars, including all, however, that are recognised as of the third magnitude, together with such others as possess some peculiar interest. Some of the more remarkable constellations will be successively delineated, having, like Orion, all the stars visible in Europe to ordinary eyes set down accurately in their relative places. The map (c) is so constructed that, at any hour of the day or night, and during the entire year, all those stars that are, at the moment, above the horizon shall be immediately cognisable at one view; and by means of the movable horizon, referred to in the note, their risings and settings, and their whole diurnal and even annual courses, above and below the horizon, may be readily traced. But these are details which must be deferred to a future opportunity. THE THE HOPE OF THE GLORY OF GOD. By PROFESSOR CANDLISH, D.D. HE love of glory is natural and universal in mankind. It is not merely the weakness or vice of a few whom ambition moves "to wade through slaughter to a throne, or shut the gates of mercy on mankind." It is in one form or other a desire of all. Nor is it a wrong or sinful passion in itself, but only when indulged to excess or in a wrong way. It becomes a vice when glory is wrongly estimated or unduly prized; when men seek mere notoriety instead of true honour, or when they covet the praise of the unthinking or worthless because they may be many or great, instead of the approval of the wise and good; or when they desire to be honoured for what is not theirs, or is not truly honourable. To desire that our name may not be forgotten, but remembered with praise and gratitude, that our memory should be cherished and our deeds recorded with the approbation of others, is no more than natural; it is just one of the many proofs afforded by human nature that man is not self-sufficient for his own happiness, but must enjoy the approval and love of others, and that he was made not for time only, but for eternity—not for the world, but for God. But the only true glory is the praise which comes from the wise and good, and which is not founded on any false or deceptive appearance, but on the truth. Hence the truest glory of all is that which comes from God alone, the approval and praise of Him who searches the heart, and whose judgment is ever according to truth. This is the only thing that can really and fully satisfy the longing for glory that is natural to the human heart. This, therefore, is the highest ideal and pattern of true glory. This is that glory and honour which is to be bestowed at the great day of judgment on every one that doeth good. But how can we have any hope of this glory of God? Have we not all sinned and come short of the glory of God? And even now are we not continually failing in duty? Even our good works are not such as God can approve or praise. Are our love to Him and zeal in His service so sincere and strong | that we could present them to Him and ask His approval? Is our discharge of duty so diligent and faithful that we could expect His praise? Is our love to our brethren so pure and fervent as to be a fitting object of His glory? In all these graces and duties is there any on which we can ourselves look Can with complacency and self-approval? we forget the vanity, the meanness, the selfishness that taints our best works? Can we fail to remember how often we fall short of our duty, how soon we grow weary in welldoing, how readily we give way to temptation? What hope can there be for us of the approbation of God when we so utterly fail to gain any approbation from ourselves? Must not the utmost we can expect be that we shall barely escape God's wrath and condemnation? Can we venture to hope for more than a mere acquittal at God's judgment, and this only for the sake of Christ? Can it be either possible or lawful for us to cherish any further hope? Yes, undoubtedly it is; for the Bible often speaks of the crown of glory which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give to His saints on the great day, and even of different degrees of reward for different services; and we are encouraged to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. But it is only those who are justified by faith, and stand in the favour of God now, that can have this hope. We must first have our sins forgiven of God's free grace for Christ's sake, and ourselves made accepted in the Beloved, before we can hope for the glory of God. But when those things are secured there is a firm foundation laid for such a hope. For the same Saviour in whom we have peace with God is also in us the hope of glory. Through Him not only are we received personally into God's favour, but the works also that we do here are accepted, and approved, and rewarded for His sake. If we are Christ's indeed, we are His followers in this world-His followers in this as well as in other respects, that we, like Him, have a work given us to do—a work which, like His, is not our own, but our Father's: yea, a work which is the very same as He had to do-the work of obedience, of maintaining a holy and godly walk, of contending against sin and temptation and witnessing for truth in the world, of carrying forward the cause for which He lived and died. We have, indeed, the very same work to do as He had; for has He not said to His first disciples, and through them to us all, “As the Father hath sent me, even so send I you?” So too we may have, like Him, not only work to do, but trial and suffering to bear; for He said also, “ If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his |