across the sky.

THE RECENT COMET.

HE appearance of a comet large enough to be seen with the naked eye in the twilight sky of June is a matter sufficiently important by reason of its rarity to account for the large amount of attention which our late visitor has Lattracted. It is in fact just twenty

years since a comet so large and bright has been seen in England. But beautiful and bright as this year's comet was when seen at midnight on the 24th of June, it was but small as compared with the splendid object which appeared in 1861, and whose tail, on July 3rd of that year, extended for 100 degrees, or rather more than half

A short paper on the subject appeared at the time in the Bible Class Magazine, and it has been thought that the pages of its worthy descendant and successor, EXCELSIOR, should in like manner contain a record of the comet now passing away. Its history, so far as at present known, is brief and meagre, the first intimation of its existence having reached us from Rio de Janeiro, in South America, where it appears to have been discovered by Mons. Cruls on the 29th of May. Dr. Gould, of Buenos Ayres, who saw it on the 1st of June, expressed an opinion that it might prove to be identical with the beautiful comet of 1807, which had a tail five degrees in length, and remained visible for no less than twenty-eight weeks. We are, however, at some loss to know what should have suggested the identity, seeing that, according to the calculations of the astronomer Bessell, this comet would not be likely to return in less than 1,404 years, and might possibly be delayed for 2,157 years, according to which its earliest reappearance in the year 3211 has certainly only a remote interest to members of the present generation.

Shortly after its discovery in South America our comet was reported as having been seen at the Cape of Good Hope. Its distance from the North Pole was then about 120 degrees, and its apparent motion almost directly North, so that it soon passed beyond the range of Southern observers. Unfortunately for those in the northern hemisphere, the comet's course was almost along the line of the sun's meridian, the consequence being that for many days after it entered our skies it rose and set during the daytime, and under such circumstances could only have been rendered visible

to us by a total eclipse of the sun. In many of the accounts which appeared in the newspapers surprise was expressed that the comet should have burst upon us so suddenly; indeed, one observer (if we may apply the term to such as only see without observing) went so far as to state that, "whilst looking at the sky, suddenly there appeared a large comet," &c., as if he had been the privileged spectator of an apparition akin to the startling emergence of Jack-in-thebox! A few words in explanation may therefore not be out of place. Our readers will no doubt remember that the apparent movement of a star across the sky from east to west is but the effect of the rotation of the earth in the opposite direction, and that the apparent position of a star in the sky depends upon the actual position of the observer upon the earth. If we lived at a place upon the earth's equator, the poles would be on our horizon, and every star in the firmament (those at the poles themselves alone excepted) would rise, shine for twelve hours, and set for the remaining twelve. But if we travelled northward, say 20 degrees, our pole star would be seen 20 degrees above the northern horizon, so that all the stars within that distance from the pole would never set at all, whilst those within an equal distance from the southern pole would never rise. Now here in London our distance north of the equator is 51 degrees, and consequently no star within that distance from the pole can ever set to us. Apparently they journey in circles round the pole without dipping below the horizon, and are therefore known in astronomical language as circumpolar stars. It will, we think, now be readily perceived that as soon as the comet in its northern course had travelled 38 degrees north of the equator it would become circumpolar, and from that time visible during such hours as the strength of summer twilight would permit. From such details as have been yet obtained, it is thought that this comet passed its perihelion, or nearest distance to the sun, on June 19th, from which date its brightness would decrease; but at the time we write (July 4th) it is the most conspicuous object in the northern sky, being only distant from the pole about 18 degrees, and, seen through the telescope to-night, it is still an object of rare and striking beauty, notwithstanding the combined effects of twilight and the moon. During the first week of its appearance photographs were taken and the spectroscope was brought to bear upon it in the hope that something as to its chemical composition might be ascertained, but, beyond the visibility of certain carbon lines, its spectrum was that of sunlight, by which therefore, without a doubt, it chiefly shines. But although in size and grandeur it falls short of some which we have seen, its bright and star-like nucleus, so far as we remember, was much more sharply defined than was the case in either of the great comets of 1858 or 1861. R. T. LEWIS.

ARCHBISHOP FENELON'S PRayer.

Y GOD, men know Thee not. They discern not who and what Thou art! The light shineth in darkness and the darkness comprehends it not. By Thee we exist, we taste pleasures, and forget Him by whom all is caused. We see naught but by Thee, the Universal Light, the Sun of Souls, who shinest more clearly than our material sun; and seeing nothing but by Thee, we yet behold Thee not. Thou alone impartest all; to the stars their splendour, to the fountains their streams and currents, to the earth plants, to fruits their flavour, to flowers their beauty and perfumes, to all nature its riches, to man health, reason, virtues, graces; Thou givest, doest, rulest all. I see Thee, Lord, only. All else disappears as a shadow to the eyes of him who thus beholds Thee; but the world discerns Thee not. Alas! he who does not discover Thee has seen nothing: he has spent life in the illusions of a dream! As for me, O my God, I have found Thee everywhere; even within myself. It is Thou who effectest whatever I do that is good. A thousand times have I felt that I could not subdue my wrong tempers or destroy my habits, that I could not subdue my pride, nor follow my reason, nor continue to will the good that I once have willed. It is Thou who givest a right will, and who maintainest it incorrupt. Without Thee I am but a reed shaken by the wind. I leave myself, O God, in Thy hands: mould and remould this clay; give it right form, then break it, if such Thy will: it is Thine; it suffices that Thy counsel be fulfilled, and that nothing shall oppose Thy good pleasure, for which I was created.

STRANGER THAN FICTION.

CURIOUS anecdote is told concerning Admiral Bythesea, V.C., C.B., who has just retired from the service, after having for many years filled the post of Consulting Naval Officer to the Government of India. It is stated that the admiral was picked up, as an infant, far out at sea, lashed to a bale of goods. A lady-presumably his mother-was with him, but she was dead, and there was no evidence of any kind by which the names of the waifs could be traced. The officers of the man-of-war which picked up the poor little infant did all they could by advertisement and inquiry to find out his relations, and finding all attempts futile, they determined to adopt the child, to whom they gave the name of "By-the-Sea." He was sent to a naval school, and when old enough joined the navy. By a happy coincidence the first ship in which he served was the one which had saved his life as an infant. He

took to his profession, and during the Crimean war distinguished himself at the Island of Wordo, where he earned the Victoria Cross and the decoration of C. B. Later on his services in India gave him the Companionship of the

Order of the Indian Empire, and he now retires from the service with the rank of admiral-a consummation little dreamed of by the kind-hearted officer who rescued and educated him.

FERNSIDE FORTUNES;

OR,

ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.

By WILLIAM J. LACEY.

CHAPTER VIII.

A FRESH MYSTERY.

A

BEL EDGEWORTH and his master sat and talked far into the night; for Samuel Barron could hardly have been more interested if his own name and inheritance had been at stake instead of his visitor's.

When at last Abel left Mr. Barron's home, the stars were shining on the deserted streets. To reach his humble lodging. place he had to repass both Bell Bank and the factory.

"I had rather it had been anybody else than Justyne, though," muttered Abel to himself, as the blaze from the windows of the great house fell across his path. "It seems a mean advantage to take."

His thoughts had sped to Maggie Forth. With a chivalry which did him credit, and which, I fear, is not common, the young mechanic's soul rebelled against the merest semblance of any unfairness. He had set himself to give his rival a free field if no favour, and did not know that already the battle had been fought-that Maggie Forth, whether she appre ciated the "gold" or not, had at least despised and rejected the "glitter."

His meditation was broken by an odd incident. From the factory there was a narrow, walled-in footpath, which came into the curving road a few paces below Bell Bank, and which was of great use to the artisans as affording a direct and secluded way into the town. As Abel reached it he fanciedsurely it must be fancy !—that cringing into the darkest of its shadows was a form he knew-a figure disguised, dishevelled, and carrying a burden, but still that of Harry Justyne. Abel almost turned his steps to make sure, but the lateness of the hour, the wildness of the supposition, the ease with which in such lights an error might be made, and, above all, the consideration that in any case it was nothing to him, united to restrain him. The circumstance flew back to his brain in a moment and took a fresh significance, when the very first news in the morning was that of a great robbery at Barron's factory.

The counting-house had been surreptitiously entered, the strong box