SHINING with a ruddy glow in our midnight sky, the planet Mars and giant Jupiter rule supreme, being the most conspicuous of the celestial bodies, (with the exception of the Moon), visible during our autumn nights. Jupiter rises in the eastern horizon considerably later, and will eventually surpass Mars in beauty and brilliancy, as the two approach conjunction.

Mars has always been an object of great interest to astronomers, owing to its comparatively close approach to our Earth at opposition, or, in other words, when it is on the same side of the Sun as we are, and exterior to us, and consequently near enough to allow of a close study of its physical features to be made to the best advantage.

Mars is the fourth planet in order of distance from the Sun, and the next outside the orbit of the Earth, and it moves in a path around the Sun, at a mean distance of about 140 millions of miles, in about 687 days, thus making the Martian year very nearly equal to two of our years. This path around the Sun is not circular, but elliptical, and has considerable eccentricity-much more than the Earth's orbit. Owing to this, it is only 128 millions of miles from the Sun at perihelion, or nearest approach, while at aphelion, or farthest point, it is 154 millions of miles distant.

If the period of revolution of Mars in its orbit were exactly two years, it would make one revolution while the Earth made two, and they would come together at regular intervals of two years; but, as it goes a little faster than this, it takes the Earth about fifty days on the average over the

two years to catch up to it, so that oppositions occur in various portions of its orbit, and owing to its eccentricity, the distance from the Earth to Mars varies considerably at successive oppositions. Now, when an opposition occurs while Mars is at perihelion, it is only about 35 millions of miles from us, while at an opposition in aphelion, the planet is some 62 millions of miles distant. An opposition about the end of August occurs while Mars is at perihelion, and that is therefore the best time for observing that planet; and it was at one of these that Professor Hall made the discovery of two tiny moons revolving around it.

Mars resembles our Earth in its physical features more than any of the other planets, though the proportion of land to water is much greater than on the Earth. There is no reason why human life should not exist there, perhaps of an order superior to what we have on the Earth. Speculation may be made freely upon life on this most interesting planet, and we may safely speculate, without the fear of contradiction, if we keep within the bounds of the possibility of life existing there under the physical aspects as shown in our telescopes.

There is no doubt that Mars has arrived at a stage in its existence not yet reached by the Earth, but which has been passed by the Moon. According to the nebular hypothesis of the formation of the solar system, cosmic matter, existing in space in inconceivable tenuity, has gradually, through long ages, collected together until a nebulous, vaporous mass has been formed, extending, it may be, far beyond the present known

limits of our system. During this formation a whirling motion would naturally be induced, and most probably the nebulæ would not be of the same density, but have several points of more or less condensation. In course of time the mass, by gradual shrinkage, would begin to assume the shape of nebulæ, with small, well-defined nuclei, the condensation at the centre beginning to glow and assume an incandescent appearance, and the same conditions occurring at the minor points of condensation. The whirling motion would be faster at the central points or nuclei. After a time, by continual shrinking, these nuclei would eventually become separated, and the matter belonging to each would contract on its own centre, and gradually become a fiery liquid mass, thus forming the different planets, but greatly in excess of their present volume.

In the course of ages of various lengths, according to the sizes of the different masses thus separated, the several planets and the central nucleus or sun would arrive at a point where condensation would no longer take place, and, cooling by radiation. would exceed the heat caused by contraction; a crust would begin to form on the liquid mass, beginning much like the formation of a scum, and gradually thickening until a solid surface, like that of our Earth, was formed, and which eventually would continue to thicken until the whole became a cold solid. The Moon is very nearly, if not quite, in that state at present.

The satellites or moons which revolve around most of the planets, have been formed in a similar manner, the planets acting as central masses in their own comparatively small whirling motions; and centres of conden sation have taken place just the same as in the larger mass, and these have condensed and formed moons. stream of asteroids or small planets which revolve around the Sun between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter, have

The

no doubt condensed in the same zone on numerous small points of condensation comparatively close together.

Now, in accordance with this theory, we may easily arrive by analogy at something like the conditions which exist at the Sun and different planets, by comparing the known state of our own Earth, its shape and mass, with the known sizes and masses of the various planets.

The Sun, we know, is a glowing liquid mass of immense size, surrounded by an envelope of fiery vapor. Changes are continually going on. Immense eruptions and whirlwinds or cyclones of gases and metals reduced to the vaporous or molten state, occur on so vast a scale that our fiercest hurricanes, compared with them, are nothing more than calms. No life such as exists on our globe can be there.

Of Mercury we know very little, its close proximity to the Sun allowing of but small opportunity to study its features. No markings on its surface can be detected with certainty. The heat it receives from the Sun is very much greater than that received by the Earth, and if its atmosphere be of the same density and condition as ours, human life would be scorched out in very short time.

The planet Venus approaches the Earth more nearly in size than any of the other planets, being but a few miles smaller in diameter. At her periods of elongation she is one of the most brilliant objects in the sky, and for similar reasons to those which apply to Mercury, although somewhat modified, as her distance from the Sun is greater, nothing satisfactorily as to her physical condition can be ascertained. She is apparently surrounded by a dense atmosphere filled with masses of vapor, which in the upper regions form into thick impervious clouds that reflect the sunlight more brilliantly than would the unobstructed surface, much as the snow-white cumulus clouds in our own atmosphere, with the sun shining brightly

on them, reflect the light. This atmosphere, densely laden with clouds, no doubt absorbs a great deal of the solar heat. Her climate is, most likely, a great deal more humid and warm than ours; perhaps there is no land, or if there is land, it is only in small detached pieces, and teeming with soft, rank vegetation dripping with moisture from the excessive warm humidity. However, this is mere speculation; and it is doubtful if any glimpse has ever been had below the heavily moisture-laden atmosphere. Venus, apparently, has not reached that period of her life which corresponds with that of the Earth, but is in that state in which our globe was just prior to the advent of the creation, by the fiat of the Almighty, of our continents, oceans and seas.

Our Earth has passed the period of scum formation on liquid matter, and has a crust estimated by some geologists to be about 2,000 miles thick. The interior is still in a molten condition, as is evidenced by the action of volcanos, which are nothing more than funnels reaching down to the liquid mass and acting as vent holes for the escape, in the shape of streams of lava, of the bubbling matter within.

The Moon has apparently cooled down, perhaps to the centre; all the water has disappeared, and there is no indication of any atmosphere whatever. Not a particle of vegetation can be seen. It is, in fact, a dead world. Its surface is very rough; ranges of mountains and extinct volcanic peaks dot its face very thickly in places; these, together with the basins or beds of what were apparently at one time oceans and seas, make up what to the naked eye is commonly called the "Man in the Moon."

The next planet to the Earth in order of distance from the sun is Mars, which presents a ruddy appearance to the eye; but in the telescope this appearance vanishes to a great extent. It requires a rather large glass and good atmospheric conditions

to study its surface well. This planet shows well defined markings that are supposed to be land and water, and also at the poles white patches are seen, which evidently are masses of snow, judging from the fluctuations in size they undergo according to the change of seasons. The time of the rotation of Mars on its axis has been very accurately determined, and does not differ much from that of the Earth, and its inclination to the plane of its orbit is only a little greater than ours, so that the seasons are somewhat similar, but nearly double the length of ours. is of a reddish nature, resembling our red clay, and should be very productive, and if the human race goes on improving as time advances, the inhabitants there are as far ahead of us in social life, and in the arts and sciences, as we are of, say, the savages of the interior of Africa.

The soil of Mars

Owing to the planet's small size,— some 4,000 miles in diameter,-it has passed through the present stages of our existence, and human life has advanced beyond what it is on the Earth. We may imagine people there to have enormous lung and chest development, owing to the rarer atmosphere, and that they have solved most of the problems that are exercising us now. Electricity is better understood, and is applied almost universally. Great air ships, propelled by electricity, may be moving with the greatest rapidity and ease through the air. Flying machines of the lightest structure, and worked by the same agency, are perhaps used by everyone, man there living as much in the air as on the land. The waters are not navigated as we navigate ours: boats propelled by wind and steam are too slow, and railways are a thing of the past. The age in Mars is an electrical one, in the fullest sense of that term.

On the other hand, life, owing to the rarity of the atmosphere, may have dwindled down to the extent

of only organisms being able to live that do not require the amount of air that higher types do; or, the human race may have passed through all the phases of existence that have occurred on the earth, and attained to the highest state of perfection within the power of man, and then gradually and steadily, through the long stretches of time, declined as the planet cooled and lost more and more of its water and air, and was rendered less habitable, until only a small remnant, the survival of the more robust, now are left, and perhaps live in a state approaching that of the aborigines of Australia. All this is purely conjectural, for the optical power at our command does not enable us to distinguish more than markings on the surface, indicating land and water and snow at the poles, with certain patches supposed to be clouds on account of their changing position.

In the planet Jupiter we have an illustration of a world that is still partially in the liquid state at the surface. This immense globe has apparently arrived at that state in which a crust is beginning to form much after the manner of large loose cakes of ice floating about in the Arctic seas, only a great deal more scattered. These cakes are not, like those of the polar waters, cold solid masses, but are more like red-hot iron in a plastic condition, and they are of immense size. The large red spot that has been visible for some years may be regarded as one of these. In a telescope, even of moderate power, Jupiter and his moons present a grand view. At times the four satellites-we do not here consider the recently discovered fifth moon, as it is a very difficult object in the very largest of telescopes-may be

seen strung out in a line on either side of the planet, while at other times one or more may be on one side, and the others on the other, or one may in its revolution around the parent orb be either in front or behind it, or else immersed in its shadow. All these different positions form interesting occasions for telescopic study and observation.

Jupiter has a rapid revolution around its axis, and, in consequence, the vapour, or whatever is emitted from its hot, molten surface, is drawn into belts, which extend around the equatorial regions. These belts are distinctly visible in almost any telescope where a magnifiying power of 70 or more can be obtained.

On Jupiter, under these conditions, nothing can exist in a state of life as it does here, and we may with certainty conclude that the planet is still in too hot a state for habitation, and that it will be vast ages yet before it will arrive at the life-supporting conditions of this earth.

If we glance at the different members of the solar system and view them in the light of the nebular hypothesis, and what our telescopes reveal of their physical features, we may, I think, safely come to the conclusion that with the exception of Mars, and perhaps Venus and the satellites of Jupiter, none of them, other than the earth, are in a fit state for the support of life as we know it. What exists in the vast stellar systems outside of our own system, insignificant when compared to them, we shall probably never find out; but this we may be certain of:-that God has never created such immense and innumerable star masses simply for the purpose of studding our night sky with points of light.

"AINT it a beauty, now, Martha ?"

"Yes, as chickens go. But I reckon it won't live long with a leg like that. Don't Speckle take any notice on't yet?"

"No, nor she won't, unless I'm mistook."

The candle, which Crumbs held in his hand, flickered and quavered, casting weird shadows about the cow-stable; one moment it lit up the stalls, revealing the drowsy, steaming cattle, asleep, or watching the proceedings with their large wondering eyes; a pile of turnips in the corner would show up distinctly for a moment, and then fade away into darkness and the shadows; the rakes and hoes hanging upon the stone walls looked like straggling legs and arms in the semi-dark

ness.

"Good night for spooks!" said Crumbs, abruptly, after he had safely deposited the lame chicken in a miniature pile of straw at the bottom of a

barrel.

'Lor! No!"Martha exclaimed, covering her rosy face with her apron, and almost dropping her milk-pail at the prospect of meeting anything so uncanny as a spook.

Without the stable, the cold November rain could be heard falling with monotonous persistency; the trees were moaning loud "wi' angry sugh," and the door rattled on its hinges; little puddles of water had formed all over the barn-yard, and the strawstacks looked like isolated barges. The few boards from the stables to the garden gate had almost sunk from view; Martha and Crumbs on their way to the house hopped from one plank to the next with accuracy born of experience, finding their way along by intuitive perception rather

than by any visible agency: the lights in the farm-house kitchen served as their guide.

"My! Ain't a fire refreshin?" exclaimed Martha, as she passed the glowing fireplace.

"Fetch a chair, Crumbs," said she, "and we'll crack some o' them hickory nuts."

Martha sat gazing at the glowing logs, one arm resting upon her knee and the other wrapped snugly in a corner of her checked apron.

She was past thirty-a large strapping woman, with an abundance of brown hair coiled neatly in a faded net; her plump cheeks had that enviable pinky freshness which tells of the fields and the sun and brisk breezes; her hands were brown and muscular (Martha was far-famed as a corn-husker); altogether she had that comfortable appearance suggestive of a happy, cheery disposition. She had lived with Farmer Stubbins for years, and had, owing to her fondness for her mistress, refused many an offer to leave Hillcrest Farm and to settle down in a house of her own.

Crumbs would be thirteen next Christmastide; he had been left on Farmer Stubbins' doorstep one blustering January night, and though four stalwart, growing boys of his own graced his hearth and home, he and his good-wife found they had room in their hearts for one more, and so Crumbs remained. He had looked such a helpless bundle of humanity that he had forthwith been christened Crumbs by the boys-and Crumbs he was called.

He possessed that ragged and untidy picturesqueness which invariably betokens true genius. His hair was of a straw color, which, when the sun