Part I, pp. 442-443.

You are now introduced into a darker corridor, and then again into a broad and pillared space, where the columns are sculptured, being cut through and through into figures of dancing gods, like Shiva when he played his flute to the shepherds. You now look out upon a little sheet of water with a miniature temple in the middle of it. This is the Lake of the Golden Lilies. Near by it is the little chapel where Queen Mangammal’s subjects starved her to death in 1706, having placed food so near that she could see and smell it, but not taste it. We now enter another department of the temple; above there are stone images, up around the pillars, in all corners, and hanging down over you wherever you go, near walls or archways. These images are not grave and majestic, but, in the main, grotesque, bacchanalian, in fantastic attitudes, and often combining the bodies of man and beast. They represent, for the most part, the escapades of Shiva. Every now and then one comes to a shrine, where worshipers lie prostrate before it, and remain motionless for a long time. No one knows how long it has taken these poor dusty pilgrims to reach this sacred place. Perhaps they have been three months on the journey. They come from the very base of the Himalayas, or the borders of Thibet, and now that they have reached the end of their pilgrimage, would die with a happy heart. There are several gold plated images, veiled from view, which represent the god Shiva, or his wife, in some part of their marvelous career. The representations in stone, both of men and the brute world, are frequent everywhere. Elephants, horses, cattle, and every kind of animal held sacred in the Hindoo mythology, are cut out of stone, and made to portray the supposed divine attributes of Shiva and his wife. Here, too, are the very _vehanas_, or great chariots, plated with gold, in which the god and his wife are taken out on special days in the year, to ride. Beside these there are silver litters, which serve the same divine purpose on other days.

One grows weary of the procession of splendid but gross images and idols in this vast space. Now you are out for a time in the open air, where a vacancy has been left in the roof, and the beautiful sky throws down its blessed sunlight upon this terrible picture of idolatry. But very soon you are brought again under the shadowing and lofty ceiling, and before you are aware of it, you are almost lost in a dark labyrinth of sculptured pillars, black idols in gold wrappings, dusty and absorbed pilgrims, cheerful doves, and the constant crowd of men and boys, who follow you, either to sell you their sweets, or beg for your loose coppers. All at once you come out from a corridor to the marble steps of a miniature lake. Be careful now. Only the real Hindoo dares to step down into its waters. For every drop is sacred, and must touch only the skin of Shiva’s children. Over the calm surface the towers stand as gay sentinels, from century to century. Turning again, you must look carefully, or you will tread upon a sleeping form, which has dropped in from the hot air, and let fall its burden, and eaten its crust, and now rests an hour. There is a mother, with a nose-ring so large that it hangs down over her mouth, and she must eat through it, or starve. Her ankles are encircled by heavy silver anklets, cut like serpents. Her toes are glittering with jeweled rings. She has led her child up before an image of Shiva’s wife, and is explaining what it all means. Poor woman! Little she knows the truth. The One Name above all others she has never once heard. Here is a dwarf, who stands beside a shrine, and holds out his withered hand for an _anna_. Here, in a place where the statuary has given way to the wear of ages, are workmen in stone, who are making new pillars, with sculptured flutings, to take the place of the old. All the work, every stroke of mallet and chisel, must be done right here, where everything is holy, and Shiva smiles down upon the labor.

* * * * *

ANECDOTE OF JERROLD.—His heart was as kindly a one as ever beat in a human bosom; and his hand most liberal, and often far more liberal than his means might have justified. He was once asked by a literary acquaintance, whether he had the courage to lend him a guinea. “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I’ve got the courage; but I haven’t got the guinea.” He had always the courage to do a kind action, and when he had the guinea it was always at the command of the suffering, especially if the sufferer was an honest laborer in the field of literature.—“_Personal Traits of British Authors._”

GEOGRAPHY OF THE HEAVENS FOR MAY.

BY PROF. M. B. GOFF, Western University of Pennsylvania.

THE SUN.

Although at the time these lines are written the sun has not in his northern course reached the equator, and with us here in the north the ground is covered with snow, yet by the time our readers see these words in print a great change will have taken place in the face of nature; the beautiful green of the winter wheat will cover the fields, the tulips and hyacinths exhibit their brilliant colors, and our forests begin to display their refreshing foliage, and “Old Sol” himself will have completed half his journey to the tropics and have measured for us many days of the “little span” allotted to the life of man.

“Men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.”

And thus are we ever reminded of the “flight of time.” The days grow longer and the shadows shorter; but “all too soon” the shadows begin again to lengthen and the nights increase. Of this, perhaps, we should not complain; for the many long days of summer give us ample opportunity to perform our duties during the “noble sunlight,” and we shall probably be glad of the rest that comes with the “shortening hours.”

During May our time is slow, the sun coming to the meridian about three minutes before noon, as indicated by our clocks. Sunrise occurs at 4:58, 4:42, and 4:32 a. m., on the 1st, 16th, and 30th, respectively, while sunset is at 6:55, 7:10, and 7:22 p. m. on the corresponding days. Day breaks on the 16th at 2:43 a. m., and twilight ends at 9:09 p. m., giving eighteen hours and twenty-seven minutes from “early dawn to dewy eve.” The length of day varies from thirteen hours fifty-seven minutes to fourteen hours fifty minutes. Increase in right ascension, north 6° 36′.

THE MOON’S

Phases occur as follows: last quarter, on 7th, at 3:35 a. m.; new moon, 14th, at 10:09 a. m.; first quarter, 21st, 12:37 a. m.; full moon, 28th, 3:22 p. m. Rises on the 1st, at 9:16 p. m.; sets on the 16th at 9:29 p. m.; rises on the 30th at 8:49 p. m. Farthest from the earth (in apogee) on the 4th, at 5:18 a. m., and again on the 31st, at 6:54 p. m. Nearest to earth (in perigee) on the 16th, at 4:54 a. m. In latitude 41° 30′, least elevation on the 3d, amounting to 30° 11′ 56″, and again on the 30th, amounting to 30° 5′. Greatest elevation on the 17th, equal to 66° 51′ 38″.

MERCURY

Affords sharp-eyed early risers before and after the 25th, a few days’ opportunity to get a glimpse of his countenance, as he reaches his greatest western elongation at 7:00 a. m. of the above named date. On the 11th, at 4:00 a. m., he is farthest from the sun; same date, at 2:00 p. m., stationary; on the 12th, at 10:59 p. m., 22′ south of the moon; on 13th, at 3:00 a. m., 2° 27′ south of Mars, and again on the 30th, at 4:00 p. m., 2° 56′ south of same planet. Motion 2° 27′ 12″ retrograde up to the 11th; and from 11th to end of the month, 14° 54′ 35″ direct. Diameter diminishes from 12″ on the 1st to 7.4″ on the 31st. The times of his rising are as follows: On the 1st, 4:49 a. m.; on the 16th, 3:59 a. m.; and on the 30th, 3:36 a. m.

VENUS.

During the month the beauty of this planet is quite overshadowed by the superior light of the sun. Her times of rising and setting are nearly his own, and her diameter ranges from 9.8″ to 10″. On the 4th, about noon, the sun is between her and the earth (in superior conjunction). On the 11th, at 6:00 p. m., she is 1° 15′ north of Neptune; on the 14th, at 1:17 p. m., 3° 47′ north of the moon; motion direct, amounting to 39° 15′ 47″. On the 1st, she rises at 5:05 a. m., and sets at 6:45 p. m.; and on the 16th, rises at 4:59 a. m., sets at 7:21 p. m.; on the 30th, rises at 5:03 a. m., sets at 7:53 p. m.

MARS,

Like Venus, keeps near the sun during the entire month, rising on the 1st at 4:24 a. m.; on the 16th, at 3:43 a. m., and on the 30th, at 3:25 a. m., and setting on the corresponding days at 5:22, 5:21, and 5:19 p. m. respectively. His diameter is 4.4″, and his motion 22° 14′ 33.6″ eastwardly (direct). On the 12th, at 10:55 p. m., he is 2° 3′ north of the moon; on the 30th, at 4:00 p. m., 2° 56′ north of Mercury.

JUPITER,

Now that Venus “hides her diminished head,” “does himself proud,” attracting the eye of the most casual observer. His proximity to the star _Alpha Leonis_ (Regulus), particularly on the 30th, when he is about two thirds of a degree north of the latter, detracts nothing from his prominence; but on the other hand, rather renders him more conspicuous. On the 17th, at 10:00 a. m., he is just 90° east of the sun; and on the 20th, at 9:37 p. m., 4° 17′ north of the moon. His diameter decreases during the month from 37.2″ to 34.2″ and he makes a direct advance of 2° 3′ 51″. On the 1st, he rises at 12:25 p. m., and sets next morning at 2:03; on the 16th, he rises at 11:30 a. m., and sets on the 17th at 1:04 a. m.; on the 30th, rises at 10:42 a. m., and sets at 12:14 a. m. on the 31st.

SATURN.

Those who wish to see in all his grandeur this planet with his rings, must not longer delay. Each day brings him nearer the sun, so that by the close of the month his time of setting is only about one hour after sunset. His diameter decreases four tenths of a second of arc, and his motion is 3° 44′ direct. On the 16th, at 9:35 a. m., he is 4° 2′ north of the moon. He rises on the 1st at 7:23 a. m. and sets at 10:05 p. m.; on the 16th, rises at 6:31 a. m., sets at 9:15 p. m.; on the 30th, rises at 5:44 a. m., sets at 8:28 p. m.

URANUS.

This planet will be an evening star, and afford a fine opportunity for observation to those who have the means at hand profitably to view it. Our limited knowledge of its physical properties make it, to the ordinary observer, a matter of little interest. It rises on the 1st at 3:15 p. m., and sets on the 2nd at 3:21 a. m.; on the 16th, it rises at 2:15 p. m., and sets at 2:21 the next morning; on the 30th, it rises at 1:18 p. m. and sets on the 31st at 1:26 a. m. It maintains the same diameter, 3.8″, throughout the month, and makes a direct motion of 2° 13′ 45″. On the 23d, at 4:38 a. m., will be 1° 11′ north of the moon.

NEPTUNE.

And now we come to the “last but not least,” by any means, of our planets—a planet, however, that interests us but very little, as we can only see it through a quite powerful telescope, and then only as a small, pale disk. Yet its movements are ascertained and recorded just as those are of other planets, and so far as we know them, we are just as confident of the obtained results. As much so as we are of the some two hundred and twenty small bodies that are so much nearer to us, whose orbits lie between that of Mars and that of Jupiter; more confident than we are of the orbits of those erratic bodies we call _comets_, which seem to come and go at pleasure, and were formerly the terror of all who beheld them; and of those other bodies known as _meteors_, _meteorites_, or _aerolites_, which not only terrify those who behold them, but frequently injure and destroy the beings with which they come in contact. In fact, we know that Neptune, although apparently so small, is a globe 34,500 miles in diameter, and so far away as to do us no harm, while there _may_ be thousands of little invisible globes flying around our earth waiting for some favorable opportunity to break away from their restraints and hurl themselves, as those did at Stannern in 1812, or at Orgueil, in France, in 1864, upon our devoted heads or our cherished treasures. Let us, then, respect our obscure and distant friend, with whom we are definitely acquainted, and record his acts as follows: For the first part of the month he will be an evening star; from the 13th, on which date he will be in conjunction with the sun, he will be a morning star; and on the 14th, at 7:47 a. m., will be 2° 15′ north of the moon. His motion will be direct, and amount to 1° 10′; his diameter 2.5″. On the 11th, at 6:00 p. m., he will be 1° 15′ south of Venus. On the 1st he will rise at 5:44 a. m. and set at 7:42 p. m.; on the 16th, rise at 4:48 a. m., set at 6:48 p. m.; on the 30th, rise at 3:54 a. m., set at 5:34 p. m.

THE HOMELIKE HOUSE.

BY SUSAN HAYES WARD.