among the people round Tichborne Park. More than once there was a report that Roger had been found, but nothing ever came of it. She began advertising at least as early as 1863. The advertisements caused a good deal of talk, of course; they were copied into many papers, and gave rise to innumerable paragraphs. In 1865 the Dowager had got into communication with Mr. Cubitt, who had a Missing Friends' Agency in Sydney, and who readily undertook to find the missing man if he was to be found at all. He advertised on his own account in the Australian papers, giving the Dowager's description, only, somehow, leaving out the word "thin." By a remarkable coincidence, he had no sooner taken the job in hand than an old friend of his at Wagga Wagga wrote to say that he had " "spotted " the man; and immediately the Claimant appears upon the stage. Mr. Gibbs, Cubitt's correspondent at Wagga-Wagga, had there made the acquaintance of a slaughterman who went by the name of Tom Castro, and whose pipe he one day observed bore the initials, scratched on it with a knife, "R. C. T." Mrs. Gibbs had previously called her husband's attention to the advertisements for Roger Charles Tichborne, and Gibbs at once put the two things together. Castro had about the same time been in the habit of cutting the same initials on mantle-pieces, and every bit of wood that came in his way. He, too, had previously seen one of the advertisements. A Hampshire man had shown it to him, and may possibly have added some remarks of his own, either as to the old Dowager's notorious craziness on this subject, or as to Castro's likeness in expression or feature to the missing Roger. Castro, having placarded his initials in this conspicuous manner, affected to be very much annoyed that Gibbs should have "spotted ” him, but allowed himself to be persuaded that he had better surrender his secret, and go back to his mother. It is clear from the correspondence which has been produced in this case, that the Dowager communicated a good deal of information about Roger to Cubitt, through whom it may have reached Castro, and also that Castro at first went altogether astray in his demonstration of his identity with Roger. To convince the Dowager, he mentioned two circumstances known only to her and to himself— "the brown mark on my side, and the card-case at Brighton." But, as it happened, the brown mark was Castro's exclusive property, Roger never having had any thing like it; and as for the card-case referring, apparently, to a well-known trial for cheating at cards, with which Roger had nothing whatever to do-the Dowager entreats that nothing more may be said about it, as it would turn every one against him. In another letter he asked after Roger's grandfather, who died before he was born. He also said that he had been educated by the Jesuits in Paris, instead of Stonyhurst, and that he had been a private in the Guards for a fortnight. The correspondence shows that the Dowager was constantly pointing out mistakes of this kind; and yet that she was at the same time determined to accept Castro as her son.

"You

do not tell any thing at all about my son," she wrote to Cubitt, "and I hardly know any thing at all about the person you suppose to be my son;" yet in the same envelop she encloses a letter to the supposed son, taking him to her heart as her "dearest and beloved Roger," and begging him to come to her. While he is making up his mind, not without much hesitation, whether he should accept her invitation, it may be worth while to observe what sort of reputation, as appears from the evidence taken by the Australian Commission, Tom Castro at this period enjoyed among those who knew him.

He had been for some time at Wagga-Wagga, and was allowed to be a good slaughterman. He was fond of "blowing," or boasting about himself, declaring at one time that his mother was a duchess, and at another time that he was a peer of the realm. Occasionally men came to WaggaWagga who had known Castro in other parts. It appears that he had led a wandering and uneasy life, alternating between stock-riding, butchering, and horse-stealing. In Gippsland "he had bought some horses that turned out to be stolen, and he was afraid he could not find the party he bought them of." At Reedy Creek he got into another

scrape with horses. Down to this time he was known as Arthur Orton, but he appeared at Wagga-Wagga as Castro. Two of his mates had been hanged; another had been shot by the police; “Ballarat Harry” had been murdered by a friend of his own and Castro's after spending an evening with the latter. A lady, satirically called "Gentle Annie." was also a member of this agreeable society, and lived with Castro before he married. Before 1859 he went by the name of Arthur Orton, Arthur the Butcher, or Big Arthur, and afterwards as Thomas Castro, with a short interval when he borrowed Morgan's name. These circumstances were partially known at Wagga-Wagga, and Castro was naturally annoyed when allusion was made to them. In 1865 his bragging about his family appears to have become more definite and systematic, and he began writing and cutting out the initials "R. C. T." At the time he fell in with Gibbs he was very hard pushed for money. While the Dowager was writing over about the fifteen thousand pounds a year awaiting her son in England, Castro was begging for a few shillings to save him from destitution. Roger had left a gooi balance at Glyn's, and credit at another house, but Castro could think of no means of procuring a little money except by abject appeals to Gibbs's compassion. If Gibbs could not give him money, would he at least speak to one of the storekeepers to let him have necessaries for the house? "I expect," he says, "Mrs. Castro to be confined before Satur day. And believe me Sir I am more like a Manick than a B or B K to think that I should have a child born in such a hovel."

Notwithstanding his desperate circumstances, Castro was in no hurry to accept the Dowager's pressing invitations to help himself to fifteen thousand pounds a year down, with half as much again in reversion. It was clear from her let ters that she was determined to be convinced that he was: her son, and his absurd blunders about the family and about the principal incidents of Roger's career, did not distur her. It is possible that her extraordinary eagerness to adopt a man whom she had never seen, and about whom she knew absolutely nothing, for all information had been withheld. may have suggested a suspicion that she wanted the heir tr some purpose of her own, and did not care who played the part. "Let him come; I will identify him, and it will be all right; this was the gist of her letters, and a strong desire was also expressed that the discovery of the heir should be kept secret from the family. As she was in this mood, and evidently not disposed to stick at trifles, the Claimant had perhaps some reason to complain that she would not recog nize his handwriting at once as that of Roger. "You have caused a deal of truble," he says, by not identifying the writing; and he hints that unless she does so at once be wi... stay where he is : "But it matters not Has have no wish to leave a country ware I injoy good health I have grow very stout." While in this hesitating mood, he somehow falls in with Guilfoyle, who had been gardener at Tichborne Park, and with Bogle, valet of the late Sir Edward Dough ty. From them he might of course learn ail about the Dowager's peculiarities, her craze about Roger, her visits to the grounds round Tichborne Park on dark nights, with a lantern to guide the long-lost heir if he happened to be there, the lamp set in the window, and the other gossip of the servants' hall. If there was any resemblance between Castro and Roger it would also be remarked. Castro's hesi tation is now gradually dissipated. On Sept. 2, 1866, accompanied by his wife and child, and by Bogle, he sailed from Sydney to Panama on his way to England. At Panama he dallied awhile; then he went to New York, where there was another delay, and at last he started for England Here again, however, he preferred the tedious route by the Thames to the Victoria Docks at Poplar. He arrives on afternoon of Christmas Day, and almost immediately he hurries off to Wapping. Muffled up in a large pea-coat, with a wrapper round the lower part of his face, and a peaked cap overshadowing the upper part, he enters the "Globe" public-house, makes his way to the bar-parlor like an old acquaintance, and over a glass of sherry questions the landlady about the Ortons. He tries to see one of Ar thur Orton's married sisters that night, but she is out; and

the

early next morning, without waiting for breakfast, he is off again to the neighborhood of Wapping. He picks up

all the information he can get about the Ortons, and sends a letter under an assumed name to one of the married sisters. Afterwards he sent them photographs of himself and of his wife and child as portraits of Arthur Orton and his family, and he also supplied the sisters and a brother with money. The Dowager was impatiently expecting him in Paris, but he was in no hurry to go to her. He avoided all Roger's relatives, and went to Gravesend to be out of their way. Next we have a glimpse of him, under the name of Taylor, hidden in his big muffler and peaked cap, driving round Tichborne Park and studying a catalogue of pictures in the house, with Bogle in attendance. Bogle refreshes his recollection of the house by a visit to it. It was necessary to have an attorney, and, passing by all the legal advisers in any way connected with the Tichborne family, he took one who was introduced to him by a gentleman whom he is said to have met in a billiard-room at London Bridge. At last he felt equal to confronting the Dowager. He reached Paris, accompanied by the attorney, and the "mutual friend," at nine o'clock at night, but deferred his visit to his mother till next day. But next day he was so overcome with emotion that he had to send for her to come to him. He then, it is alleged, went to bed, where he anxiously awaited her. It is obvious that bed-curtains, blankets, and the dingy light of a Parisian bedroom, are not favorable to the distinct recognition of a doubtful face. We do not know exactly what took place at the interview, but the result was that the Dowager agreed to recognize him. There were many old friends of Roger's in Paris, but none were sent for except Chatillon, who at once pronounced him to be an impostor.

Returning to London, the Claimant began to get up his case. If he had been under the impression that on his identification by the Dowager he would at once step into the enjoyment of a handsome fortune, he discovered his mistake. He must make good his claim at law, and it was necessary to collect evidence. We have seen what blunders he committed about the family affairs in Australia, before he met Bogle. At Wagga-Wagga he had given Gibbs directions to prepare a will, disposing of the Tichborne property, not one item of which was stated correctly. The Dowager's Christian names were wrongly given, and the names both of persons and places had nothing whatever to do with the Tichbornes, but oddly enough were associated with Arthur Orton's career. When in London he wrote to Mr. Henry Seymour, as "My Dear Uncle," spelling the name " Seymore." Mr. Seymour was, in fact, Roger's uncle, but the relationship was never alluded to between them, the Dowager, Roger's mother and Mr. Seymour's half-sister, having been an illegitimate child. Some of his relations having with great difficulty obtained interviews with him, he took his Uncle Nangle's butler, a young man, for his uncle, who is an elderly gentleman; mistook his Cousin Kate for another cousin, calling Kate Lucy and Lucy Kate. On many points, however, he showed an intimate knowledge of the Tichborne affairs, and as time went on he began to talk more freely about them. It happens that there is a great stock of information about the family which is easily accessible. It is an old family with a history, and there is a great deal about it in county histories, baronetcies, and similar works. There is Roger's will at Doctor's Commons. There have been administrations and various suits in chancery, and the documents are open to inspection on payment of a small fee. It is certain that Roger kept a diary, and was very particular about preserving accounts and letters; and the Dowager herself was a mine of information. Bogle also knew the private history of the family, as a servant knows in our own day. Rous, the landlord of the "Swan" at Alresford, had been a clerk to Dunn and Hopkins, the attorneys to the late baronet; and the Claimant quickly established a good understanding with Rous, although it afterwards broke down. With his scraps of information picked up from the Chancery papers, and from talk with Rous and Bogle, Hopkins was next angled for and hooked. Then there was Baigent, who at first declared the Claimant

to be an impostor, and who suddenly discovered that he was the real man. The adhesion of Miss Braine, who had been Miss Doughty's governess, and of Moore, Roger's servant in South America, were not obtained till 1868. On the 12th of March, the Dowager, who had been for some time restless and disturbed, died suddenly. This was so far a loss to the Claimant that it deprived him of the pecuniary help which he had obtained from the old lady, but on the other hand it rendered it impossible that his chief witness should turn against him; and when the Dowager died, she knew nothing of the Wagga-Wagga will, and other remarkable circumstances in the Claimant's career.

Tichborne Park was in 1866, as now, let to Col. Lushington, and it was in every way a good haul when the Colonel was landed. The Colonel, who had never seen Roger, was mainly influenced by the Claimant's recognition of the Dowager's picture, and of a stuffed cock pheasant alleged to have been sent home by Roger from South America, and by his intimation that the backs of some miniatures would prove to be gold if scratched. The Claimant had, however, seen the Dowager, and had studied a catalogue of the pictures; the pheasant had not been sent home from America, but was an English bird; and the miniatures had been framed by Baigent, who appears to have mentioned it. Towards the end of February an important auxiliary arrived; this was Carter, an old trooper of the Carabineers, who was henceforward always in attendance on the Claimant. A few weeks later Carter is re-enforced by another old soldier who had been Roger's regimental servant- - McCann. Previously the Claimant had either shirked or blundered about military matters, and Baigent had never even heard him make an allusion of any kind to his connexion with the army. But now he plunged boldly into Roger's military history, and converted military witnesses by his wonderful knowledge of minute incidents. There were old stories about a horse that killed a trooper; about another trooper who got drunk; about the practical jokes played off on poor Roger, such as "chucking all the things out of his window, and sending a donkey clattering into his bedroom, which he took for the devil; about the two dogs Spring and Piecrust, Mrs. Hay's crow, and so on. He has names, dates, and incidents at his fingers' ends. At first he begins with the privates. Carter spends a day at Sandhurst, standing beer to his former comrades, gossiping with them about old days, and preparing them for a meeting with the Claimant. Separate interviews were arranged; the Claimant received each man as an old friend, went through the familiar stories, hobbled about the room to show that he was in-kneed, and made the most of his assumed French accent. Next there was an expedition to Colchester, with similar proceedings, and after that visits to various barracks in the north of England. Carter was an active missionary; there was plenty of beer flowing, and an occasional distribution of half-crowns. One man brought over another, and the Claimant collected not only witnesses, but information. When he found he had got a good hold on the privates, he tackled the officers, and won over four or five, who had no idea how the twigs had been limed for them. The interviews were always prearranged.

egg.

As the ball rolled, it gathered bulk. The affidavits of the witnesses who were first secured proved a fruitful nestThey were cleverly concocted, and then circulated among people whom it was desired to catch. They were drawn up so as to fasten upon Roger several of the Claimant's peculiarities of expression or feature, and, being unconsciously accepted as evidence of what Roger was like, facilitated the recognition of the Claimant, who was found of course to be very like himself. Then there were little "test" incidents ingeniously contrived. When the Claimant went to Burton Constable, Sir Talbot Constable the first day could not recognize him. The next day the Claimant fired off one or two stories, possibly acquired in the interval from servants or others, about having played in private theatricals at Burton, and handed the wine round when the servant was tipsy, and about an old hedge being cut down; and Sir Talbot gave in. Mr. Biddulph, a second cousin of Roger's, is the only member of the Zamily, with

the exception of the Dowager, who has recognized him; and Biddulph has confessed that his opinion was influenced by a story about two death's-head pipes, which might have been known to many persons in the Tichborne household. Col. Sawyer similarly succumbed to the Claimant's recollection of the Carabineers having been landed at Herne Bay from Dublin. This fact had been got from the War Office. At a railway station the Claimant captured Mr. and Mrs. Deane by going up to them and addressing them by name. They had the instant before been pointed out to him by one of his inseparable attendants. Mrs. Sherstone knew him at once because she has such a faculty for recognizing faces. Mrs. Hussey, who danced with Roger once at a servants' ball when she was fourteen years old, was confident as to his looks twenty years afterward.

A great body of evidence was thus collected by the end of 1867. There was a sort of grand rehearsal in the examination before Mr. Roupell at the Law Institute; and then the Claimant had four years more to get up more facts, and to study his part, as the actors say. It is true he recollected a great deal of loose odds and ends of information when in the witness-box, but, considering the time he had had for preparation, there was nothing surprising in this. Indeed, the most remarkable feature in the whole affair is that he did not attempt to learn more; to get up a little French, for example, a few facts about Paris and Stonyhurst, some notion of cavalry drill, and so on. His memory, like his French accent, was capricious-sometimes very strong, at other times a blank. He had a distinct recollection of his pipes, of the number on a trooper's horse, of the stag's head and mauve stripes on his shirts and handkerchiefs; but he could remember scarcely any thing about his life at Paris, or at Stonyhurst, and only such incidents in his military career as were the common gossip of the barrack-yard. He confounded a troop and a squadron, and did not know the difference between close and open order, or what telling off and proving meant, and he thought the Carabineers were a thousand strong. He had never heard of Lord Fitzroy Somerset. Roger had some knowledge of Latin, and the Claimant thought Caesar was in Greek. He was sure he learned Hebrew at Stonyhurst, where no Hebrew was taught. Roger was fond of music and could play the horn; the Claimant, when shown some music, and asked why the horn was written in such a key and the piano-forte in three flits, said it was because the horn could not get down to the flits. The Claimant pronounced the Dowager's name Felicite. The letters of Roger and the Claimant, in handwriting, composition, and grammar, are as different as letters can be. His story of the shipwreck of the Bella, and his escape with eight others in a boat, was absurd and contradictory. No survivor of the Bella has ever turned up. Neither the captain nor any of the crew of the vessel which he said picked them up can be discovered. First he said it was the Osprey, a Scotch schooner, then the Themis, and then again he tried back to another Osprey. The Chili Commission proved that, whereas Tichborne was not known, Arthur Orton was known to the people whom the Claimant had mentioned as his friends at Melipilla. The Chili Commission, taken in connexion with the Australian Commission and other evidence, would seem to point to the Claimant as being Arthur Orton; but who he is is of no practical importance, if he is not Roger.

As to Roger's appearance at the time he left England there is a substantial agreement in the different portraits. His friends generally describe him as a slight, dark, pale man, with a soft, melancholy eye, with thin, straight, very dark brown, almost black, hair, and with large and rather bony hands. His mother adds some flattering but fanciful touches, that he was tall and had blue eyes. Gen. Custance's picture is in another style: "A little, wretched, unwholesomelooking young man, about five feet six inches, or at most five feet seven inches, very pale, thin, and dirty-looking, and apparently not likely to grow." The General's picture is perhaps too harsh, but we suspect it is nearer the truth than the more complimentary likeness. Roger was rather a weak, insignificant youth. When he first joined the regiment he was so undersized and odd-looking, and talked so curiously

in his French way, that the colonel thought he must have come to see the cook, and directed an orderly to conduct him to the kitchen. He had to explain that he had come to see the colonel, and not the cook. It is possible that there really was a stronger resemblance in expression, if not in feature, between Roger and the Claimant than the counsel for the defence were willing to admit. But the physical evidence against the Claimant was overwhelming. It is possible that a man might increase in bulk, so that, having been once slender as Roger, he should become gross and ponderous as the Claimant; but the latter is an inch or more taller than Roger, who was twenty-four when he left England- an age at which men cease to grow in height. His head is larger; Roger's helmet, which was too loose for him, and had to be padded with a newspaper, was a painfully tight fit for the Claimant. Roger's hair was straight and lank; the Claimant's is curly. Roger's ears adhered to the side of his head; the Claimant's ears are dependent and free, with large lobes. Apart from the disputed scars on the Claimant's left foot, he has no marks of having been bled at all; but Roger was frequently bled on account of asthma. Roger's arm was elaborately tattooed, first by a sailor, who pricked out the emblems of Faith, Hope, and Charity, and afterwards by Lord Bellew, a schoolfellow, who added a cable and "R. C. T." On neither of the Claimant's arms are there any tattoo marks, though there is a mark at the wrist which it has been suggested might be a tattoo of "A O." burned out. It will occur to every one that if the Court could have insisted upon beginning with a physical examination of the Claimant there would at once have been an end of the case, and that three instead of one hundred and three days would then have been sufficient to dispose of it. As it was, the jury could come to no other conclusion that that the claim had broken down, while the judge had also no alternative but to commit Thomas Castro to Newgate.

A VOYAGE TO THE SUN.

[ALTHOUGH the following narrative is related in the first per son, it is not to be understood that the account was actually written by the voyager. The writer of these introductory lines does not deem it desirable to particularize the manner in which this account has reached him. For the present, at least, he prefers to leave the reader to guess whether (like Cardan) the voyager, who is responsible for the principal facts, saw, in a vision, what is here described; or whether "the interiors of the spirit" were "opened in him," as chanced to Swedenborg, so that he could "converse with spirits, not only those near our earth, but with those also who are near other orbs;" or whether, like the author of the "Neue Reisen in den Mond, in die Sonne, &c.," he obtained his information through the agency of clairvoyance or, lastly, whether spiritualistic communications from departed astronomers are here in question. According to the ideas which the readers of these lines may severally entertain respecting the manner in which such facts as are here described may have come to our knowledge, they will doubtless decide for themselves among these explanations, and others which may, for aught we know, be available. Nay, there may even be some who may be disposed to regard the whole of what follows as a mere effort of imagination. For our own part we must be content to pre sent, without comment or explanation, the information which has reached us; there are, indeed, some circumstances in the account which we could not explain if we would. It will be noticed that from time to time the narrator refers to explanatory communications having reference to the real nature of the voy age. These communications belong to the details which we not desire to enter upon at present.]

do

Our voyage commenced shortly before noon on Jan. 9, of the year 1872. As we started from the central part of London, or, to be more particular, from the rooms of the Astronomical Society in Somerset House, our course was directed, in the first instance, towards a part of the sky lying southwards, and some sixteen degrees above the horizon. From what I have already told you, you will understand that the earth's attraction did not in the least interfere with our progress. But atmospheric resistance was not altogether so imperceptible; and from time to time, notwithstanding

our familiarity with all the astronomical details of our journey, and X.'s special mastery of the laws to which we were to trust, we found considerable inconvenience from the loaded state of the lower atmospheric strata. Although we were no longer subject to any physical inconveniences (indeed, our enterprise would otherwise have been impracticable), and although our powers of perception were greatly enhanced, yet the very circumstances which enabled us to exercise powers corresponding to those of the common senses, rendered the veil of mist and fog which surrounded us on all sides, as impenetrable to our vision (to use this word for want of a better) as to the eyesight of the Londoner.

Presently, however, we rose into a purer atmosphere. The sun the end and aim of our journey was seen in a clear sky, while below us the vast mass of cloud and fog which hung over London appeared like a wide sea, shining brilliantly under the sun's rays, and effectually concealing the great city from our view.

Our flight was now very rapid, and each moment becoming more so, as we reached rarer and rarer regions of the upper air. We noticed that the noise and hubbub of London seemed rapidly to subside into what appeared to us at the time as almost perfect stillness. And in passing I may confirm what Glaisher has said respecting the voices which are heard to the greatest distance. For the shrill tones of women and children were heard from time to time, when the loudest tones of the male voice were altogether beyond our hearing. The sounds which we heard latest of all, however, were the occasional shrieks of railway-whistles, and (quite unexpectedly) a peculiarly shrill note produced by the beating of the sea-waves on the shore, which I do not remember to have observed under other circumstances. We noticed this as our onward course carried us past (though far above) the waters of the British Channel.

I forbear to speak of the aspect presented by the earth as our distance gradually increased; though, for my own part, my attention (at this part of our progress) was directed far more closely to the planet we were leaving than to the orb which we proposed to visit. X., on the other hand, absorbed (as you will readily believe) in the anticipation of the revelations about to be made respecting the sun, directed his sole attention to the contemplation of that luminary. Y., who accompanied us (as I have already informed you) rather en amateur than because of any profound interest which he takes in scientific investigations, appeared to be too much perplexed by the unexpected appearance of all the objects now in view to attend to any special features of the scene. He was in particular surprised at the rapidly increasing darkness of the sky in all directions, except where the sun's intense lustre still lit up a small circle of air all round his orb. Long before we had reached the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere the stars began to shine at least as brilliantly as in ordinary moonlight; and when certain signs recognized by X. showed that we were very near the limits of the air, the stars were shining as splendidly all around as on the darkest and clearest night. At this time X. asked us to turn our attention to those parts of the sky which were most remote from the sun, in order that when we were actually beyond the terrestrial atmosphere, we might see at once the full glory of a scene which he had been contemplating for some time with unutterable wonder. I am, therefore, unable from my own experience to describe how the effects of atmospheric illumination in concealing the real splendor of the regions closely surrounding the sun had gradually diminished as we rose into rarer and yet rarer strata.

But while we were preparing for the surprise which X. had promised, a surprise of another kind awaited all of us. It had become clear that although the tenuity of the air through which we were now passing was almost infinitely greater than the gaseous rarity produced in any experimental researches undertaken by men, we were yet approaching a definite boundary of the terrestrial atmosphere. None of us were prepared for the effects which were produced when that boundary was crossed. On a sudden the darkness of the heavens all round us increased a myriad

fold, insomuch that the darkness of the blackest night seemed like mid-day by comparison. Yet I speak here only of the blackness of the background on which the stars were shown; for the light of the stars as suddenly increased in an equal degree, while thousands of thousands of stars not before seen, in a moment leaped into view (I can use no other expression). The familiar constellations were there, but they seemed lost in the splendor of a thousand more wonderful constellations hitherto unrevealed, except (“as through a glass and darkly ") to the telescopist. Each star of all these unnumbered thousands shone with its proper splendor, and yet each, as respects size, seemed to be the merest point of light. It would be utterly useless for me to attempt to describe the amazing beauty of the spectacle thus presented, or the infinite complexity of structure seen amidst the star-depths. We stayed for a while entranced by the sublime picture suddenly disclosed to us; and it was with difficulty that X. (even more enthusiastic, you remember, as a student of the stars than as one of our modern sun-worshippers) could be withdrawn from the contemplation of the wonderful display.

One other circumstance I must mention before describing the scene which we witnessed when the sun and sun-surrounding regions became the object of our study. I have spoken above of the silence which prevailed around us after we had reached a certain height above the earth. To our infinite amazement, we found, as we passed the limit of the atmosphere, that what we had regarded as silence, nay, as an almost oppressive silence, was only silence by comparison with the noise and tumult lower down. A sudden change from the uproar of the fiercest battle to the stillness of the desert could not surpass in its effects the change which we experienced as we passed through the impalpable boundary of the earth's atmospheric envelope. What had seemed to us like an oppressive silence, appeared now, by contrast, as the roar of a storm-beaten sea. We experi

enced for the first time the effects of absolute stillness. It is certain that Pythagoras was right when he spoke of the tumult which, in reality, surrounds us, though,

Whilst this muddy vesture of decay

Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it.

Yet as to the harmony of the spheres, he was mistaken; for, even when the unnoticed but ever-present mundane noises suddenly ceased, as we passed the limit of the earth's airy vesture, no sound betrayed the swift rush of the planets on their course around the sun. We were still close to the earth, the desert of Sahara lying now vertically beneath us at a distance of rather more than five hundred miles, yet her onward rush at the rate of more than eighteen miles per second produced no sound which could be perceived, even amid the intense silence the black silence, as X. called it - of interplanetary space.

And now, how shall I fitly describe the scene which was revealed to us as we directed our attention towards the sun. He was scarcely nearer to us—at least, not perceptibly nearer than as commonly seen, and yet his aspect was altogether new. His orb was more brilliantly white than it appears when seen through the air, but a close scrutiny revealed a diminution of brilliancy towards the edge of his disk, which, when fully recognized, presented him at once as the globe he really is. On this globe we could already distinguish the spots and those bright streaks which astronomers call facula. But it was not the aspect of his globe which attracted our wondering attention. We saw that globe surrounded with the most amazingly complex halo of glory. Close around the bright whiteness of the disk,and shining far more beautiful, by contrast with that whiteness, than as seen against the black disk of the moon in total eclipses, stood the colored region called the chromosphere; not red, as we had expected to see it, but gleaming with a mixed lustre of pink and green, through which, from time to time, passed the most startlingly brilliant coruscations of orange and golden-yellow light. Above this delicate circle of color towered three tall prominences and upwards of thirty smaller ones. These, like the chro

mosphere, were not red, but beautifully variegated. We observed, however, that in parts of the prominences colors appeared which were not seen in the chromosphere - more particularly certain blue and purple points of light, which were charmingly contrasted with the orange and yellow flashes continually passing along the whole length of even the loftiest of these amazing objects. It was, however, worthy of notice that the prominences round different parts of the sun's orb presented very different appearances; for those near the sun's equatorial zone and opposite his polar regions differed very little in their color and degree of light from the chromosphere. They also presented shapes reminding us rather of clouds moving in a perturbed `atmosphere, than of those tremendous processes of disturbance which astronomers have lately shown to be in progress in the sun. But opposite the spot-zones, which were already unmistakably recognizable, the prominences presented a totally different appearance. They resembled jets of molten matter, intensely bright, and seemingly moving with immense velocity. One or two formed and vanished with amazing rapidity, as when in terrestrial conflagrations a flame leaps suddenly to a great height and presently disappears. Indeed, the whole extent of the two spot-zones, so far as we could judge from our view of the region outside the bright solar disk, seemed to be in a state of intense electrical disturbance, since the illumination of the solar atmosphere above and around these zones appeared not only brighter than elsewhere, but was here subject also to continual changes of brightness. These changes, viewed from our great distance, did not, indeed, seem very rapid, yet, remembering the real vastness of the atmospheric regions, it was impossible not to recognize the fact that they implied the most intense activity in the solar regions beneath.

It was clear, even at the great distance at which we still were, that the solar atmosphere extends far above the loftiest of the colored prominences. We could not yet distinguish the actual boundary of the atmosphere, though we entertained little question, after what we had discovered in the case of the earth's atmosphere, that a real boundary exists to the gaseous envelope surrounding the sun. But we could perceive that a brightly luminous envelope extended to about twice the height of any prominence visible at the moment, and that the solar atmosphere extends and remains luminous to a far greater height than this more brilliant region. But the most amazing circumstance of all was this, that above even the faintest signs of an atmosphere, as well as through and amidst both the inner bright envelope and the fainter light surrounding it, there were the most complex sprays and streams and filaments of whitish light, here appearing as streamers, elsewhere as a network of bright streaks, and yet elsewhere clustered into aggregations, which I can compare to nothing so fitly (though the comparison may seem commonplace) as to hanks of glittering thread. All these streaks and sprays of light appeared to be perfectly white, and they only differed among themselves in this respect, that, whereas some appeared like fine streaks of a uniform silvery lustre, others seemed to shine with a curdled light. The faint light outside the glowing atmosphere surrounding the prominences was also whitish; but the glowing atmosphere itself shone with a light resembling that of the chromosphere, only not so brilliant. The pink and green lustre, continually shifting, as it appeared to us, so that a region which had appeared pink at one time, would shine a short time after with a greenish light, caused us to compare the appearance of this bright region to that of mother-of-pearl. I suppose that, at a moderate computation, this glowing envelope must extend to a height of about a quarter of a million of miles from the sun; while from where we were we could trace the fainter light of the surrounding atmosphere to a distance of about half a million miles from the sun's surface. As for the white streaks and streamers, they were too irregularly spread and too complicated in their structure for us to form a clear opinion as to their extension. Moreover, it was obvious that their real extension was greater than we could at present perceive, for they gradually became

less and less distinct at a greater and greater distance from the sun, and finally became imperceptible, though obviously extending farther than we could trace them.

We had passed more than two million miles beyond the moon's orbit -our progress being now exceedingly rapid when we encountered a meteor-stream, which appeared to be of great extent. We had already noticed the passage past us of many single meteors, which seemed to cross our path in all directions. But the members of the meteorsystem now encountered were all travelling nearly in the same direction, coming from below (if we may so describe the portion of space lying south of the general level in which the planets travel) slantingly upwards, and nearing the sun, though not on a course which would carry them within several millions of miles of his globe. This meteorsystem is not one of those which our earth encounters; nor could X. —who, as you know, has closely studied the subject-recall the path of any comet which travels along the course which the meteors of this system were pursuing.

We paused to study, with not a little interest, a system which belongs to a class of cosmical objects, playing, as would appear, a most important part in the economy of the universe. The members of this meteor family were small

- few of them exceeding a few inches in diameter-and separated by relatively enormous distances. Except in the

case of a few sets of two or three or more of these bodies, which evidently formed subordinate schemes, I could not perceive any instances in which any meteor was separated by less than a hundred miles from the nearest of its fellows, insomuch that it was impossible for us to perceive more than a very few of these objects at a time. More commonly, indeed, two or three thousand miles separated each me teor from its immediate neighbor. Yet the actual number of the bodies forming this system must be enormous, for we found that the system extended in the direction in which we were travelling for no less than a million and a half of miles, and its longitudinal extension — that is, its extension measured along the orbit of the system must be far more enormous, even if the system does not form a closed ring, as in other cases known to terrestrial astronomers. It is, however, somewhat unlikely that this can be the case; for we observed that the meteors were travelling at the rate of about twenty-six miles per second, which implies (so, at least, X. asserted) that the path of these meteors is a very eccentric one, extending farther into space than the paths of the most distant known members of the solar system.

Most of the meteors were rounded, though few were per fectly globular; some, however, appeared to be quite ir regular in shape. We were interested (and Y. was not a little amused) to observe that most of the meteors were rotating, as steadily as though they were of planetary im portance the sets of meteors, also, which I have already referred to, were circling round each other with exemplary gravity. A strange circumstance, truly, that those peculiarities of planetary motion, which we are accustomed to associate with the existence of living creatures (whose requirements these movements so importantly subserve) should thus be simulated by the minute orbs which wander to all appearance uselessly through space!

After passing this interesting region, and travelling more than three million miles farther on our course towards the sun, we noticed for the first time that a change had passed over the appearance of the sun's atmosphere and the sur rounding regions. The radial streamers, respecting which astronomers have so long been in doubt, had come into view in the most unmistakable manner. We could trace them from the very border of the sun's globe, across the inner glowing atmosphere, as well as the outer and more faintly illuminated region; and beyond that region to distances which we judged to vary from some seven or eight millions of miles, opposite the solar spot zones, to about two millions and a half, opposite the polar and equatorial regions of his globe. Yet it must not be inferred that the radiated glory now visible around the sun was, strictly speaking, four-cor nered. There was a general tendency to the four-cornered or trapezoidal form, but the apparent figure of the light