CHAPTER VIII

CLOSING YEARS

ON several occasions during the early years at Silverton, my father had trouble with drunken passengers. On one occasion a certain book salesman came to the station and called for a ticket to Exeter, for which he tendered 5_d._ The parliamentary fare being 7_d._, my father asked him for the other 2_d._ The man began to abuse him and got on to the line, and would have been killed by an express, but father jumped down and dragged him back just in time to save both their lives. The man then struck father in the face with his umbrella and swore tremendously. After some trouble father succeeded in placing him outside the station gate and locked him out. The man finally paid 7_d._ for his ticket, and then threatened to kill father. Of course he was summoned and had to pay heavy fines. Father wrote regarding this case: "If I had caused the death of this man, I should have had to do at least twelve months' hard labour in one of Her Majesty's country mansions, and there would have been two and a half columns in _The Times_, _The Standard_, and _The Daily Telegraph_, expatiating on the carelessness of railway officials; but having saved his life at great risk of my own, I received as complete and satisfactory a blackguarding as it is possible to conceive."

On another occasion father was not so fortunate in averting disaster. In 1879 a lady came to the station in her carriage to meet some friends who were going to spend Easter with her. It was the day before Good Friday, and the trains were very late. The friends were coming in the down train from London, and she also wanted to see her son-in-law who was passing in the up train. While waiting she constantly crossed the line, first to the down platform, then to the up. A down train was signalled and off she went to the down platform. She was a very genial person and had been chatting pleasantly to every waiting passenger. This train was an express, and as soon as it passed by she saw an up train approaching. She immediately attempted to cross the line, probably thinking it was the stopping train, instead of which it was an express. Father rushed out to warn her, but it was too late, for the engine was upon her, and she was instantly killed. The shock was very great to both of my parents and they could not sleep for weeks.

Up to 1874 father was single-handed, and used often to be on duty from 6 a.m. till 2 o'clock the following morning waiting for a coal train which used to come at any time in those days. Afterwards a signalman was appointed, and then father's duty hours were 6 a.m. till 10 p.m. There are several people still living, both rich and poor, who could record the great courtesy they received at Silverton station. Many a time he would help some poor person along the lanes with her babies or her bundles, or show the way with his lamp to some benighted place perhaps two or three miles distant.

In the autumn of 1875 father was very ill, and when he got better he was ordered away for a change of air, and I had the pleasure of going with him. We visited some relations and went on to London. If we had gone to the dullest place in the world I should have been quite happy so long as father was with me, for on all occasions he was just the same age as his children. But as it was we went to all the interesting places, and I don't know which of us enjoyed things the most.

About this time the Great Western railway company took over what had been known as the Bristol and Exeter railway, and began to lay down narrow gauge-lines. The line near Silverton runs through a valley, picturesque but wet. The station itself is about thirty feet lower than the floor of Exeter Cathedral. For several weeks during this time there had been a great deal of rain and the valley contained more water than usual. Torrents ran down from the hills and flooded the valley of the Culm to a depth of over five feet. A culvert which drains the main part of these hills passes under the railway close to Silverton station, and this became blocked by two hurdles which had been carried down the stream and become fixed in an upright position right across the mouth of the culvert. Consequently, leaves, brushwood, thousands of apples and other rubbish got fixed on one side of the hurdles, completely staying the torrent. The railway was quickly flooded, and at 10.30 p.m., after the station was closed for the night, down came the express known as "Madame Neilson's train," because it conveyed her regularly from London to her Devonshire home. Owing to the work of laying down the narrow-gauge rails there were a great many timbers collected on that part of the line, and these were lifted by the sudden flood, and floated about on the water. Mother went to look at the flood just in time to see the express coming at a speed of sixty or seventy miles an hour, and she wondered if it would get safely through. The thought had scarcely entered her head when she saw the great engine rear itself up, as if it were a real live thing, then as suddenly drop down again, and she knew that it was off the line. The passengers got a shaking, but were otherwise none the worse, not even wetting their feet as they passed over planks laid across from their carriages to the platform. Madame Neilson and Madame Patti were both among the passengers, so here was a lively night for my mother and brothers. There is no railway hotel or other house near, so mother did her best to accommodate all these people, who were dreadfully hungry. They soon ate up all that was in our house, and there they had to wait for a relief train from Exeter. My two young brothers were called out of their beds, to escort two gentlemen to the village of Silverton two miles away. They started off full of excitement, and when they were about a quarter of a mile away the water was nearly up to their necks; but they all four went on, and my brothers had to try and get some bread for the hungry people. So they arrived in due course wet through and tired out, but they were none the worse the next day. Altogether it was a most exciting night. Father traced the origin of the flood and drew up plans, and received the thanks of the railway company.

Now there are some people, especially those who live in large towns, who may think that a small country station is a very dull place to live in, but that is because they have never tried it. Apart from such occasional and exciting events as that just described, the country has interests and amusements of its own. When country people are waiting for a local train, particularly if it is a market train, and all the passengers, both rich and poor, are more or less acquainted with each other, every topic is discussed, and if the station-master has a few minutes to spare his opinion is sure to be asked. For example, when Doctor Temple was appointed Bishop of Exeter, it made such a stir that it was the talk of every one, and father's opinion was asked by every passenger. Father had read about Dr. Temple, though he had not seen him. His reply to their question was always the same: "I rejoice to know that Dr. Temple is appointed; such men are needed in the Church very much indeed. He will be the right man in the right place, and he will thoroughly do his duty, and he will be a hard worker. Moreover, he will make the clergy work, and it is a thousand pities that so many churchmen have not yet realized what a strong man they will have amongst them."

Then up spake a countryman, "Then, du yu 'old way un bein' a tay-totler, Mr. Langdon?"

"Why, of course I do," replied father. "That is the essence of the whole matter, and that is just why the Exeter people are against him; but I for one am thankful, and I think it a great gain to the Church of England to have at last a bishop who holds such opinions."

"Well now to be sure, Mr. Langdon, I knowed thee was long-headed, and I knowed thee was an ole Liberal, now I knows thee beest an ole tay-totler."

Father was a broad Churchman, and wished for Church reform. He liked to hear good music and used to go regularly on Sunday evenings to Thorverton Church, as the services there were very much to his liking. He used to say that the Church was behind the times, and did not reach the people generally, chiefly because the clergy were all taken from one class, and in many cases they did not understand the poor. They were also educated over the heads of the people. In politics he was a supporter of Mr. Gladstone.

My father had now taken up photography and had made a collapsible dark room that he could carry on his back. He succeeded, after a few failures, in taking some very good pictures of the moon in 1880; and in December 1882 he took a good one of the transit of Venus. He also made an instantaneous shutter to his camera, by the help of which he was able to get some very good pictures, notably one of the old broad-gauge train known as the "Flying Dutchman." This was before dry plates were invented. The next thing he made was an excellent camera. A gentleman named Mr. Wellington gave him information both in regard to this and to photography in general, for which father was very grateful.

In the winter of 1881 there was very deep snow, and our house was snowed up to a height of several feet, so that before he could open the station father had to dig his way out. No trains ran that day, and only one up and one down on the two succeeding days. After that the line was pretty clear again.

In 1888 father and mother received another fearful blow by the death of my youngest brother, after a very short illness, at his lodgings in Exeter. After this time father never appeared to be very well, and before long his health entirely gave way.

During these years several visitors came to father's observatory, among them Mr. Clifton Lambert, son of the General Manager of the Great Western Railway. This gentleman wrote a sketch of father's life, which was published in three different papers, _Wit and Wisdom_, June 1889, the _Great Western Railway Magazine_, September 1889, and in the summer number _Western Weekly News_, 1894, just one month before he died. Visitors would call at all hours, in the day to see the spots on the sun, and in the evening and at night to see the moon and stars.

For many a year father had been a wonder to the simple country folk. They could not understand a man devoting his spare time to the study of the heavens, for the mere love of science. They had an idea that he could "rule the planets." Father used to say that he was astonished at the amount of superstition prevailing in the minds of all sorts of people, not only the uneducated. Even well-educated people would ask him if he could "rule their planets." He would say that he was ashamed to hear them ask such a question. People would come from long distances in the dead of night to have a look through the telescope. When asked how he had achieved so much, and brought up a large family in respectability, his answer was: "It is through the woman that the Almighty gave me; she has done the most."

It was in March 1894 that I went home to find father suffering from a complaint from which he could not hope to recover. He got gradually worse, and in July I was sent for again to come at once if I wished to see him alive. Mother had done all she could do for him, and I was very much shocked to find him suffering dreadfully. But he was very cheerful, only longing for his sufferings to end. It was a painful time, but as we all gathered around his bed, he often made us laugh by his jokes. Then there were quieter moments when he prayed the Almighty to take him. On the evening before he died, he repeated part of Psalm li. to me and some hymns, and that was the last. He passed peacefully away in the morning.

Through the kindness of Sir Thomas Acland, he was buried in the private burial ground of the Acland family, near his two sons.

So live that thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death. Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed. By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

* * * * *

Speak of me as I am, nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I

A LIST OF PARISH CLERKS OF THE PARISH OF CHISLEBOROUGH, COPIED FROM THE REGISTER

Roger Langdon, Doctor of Music, and Clerk } of the Parish of Chisleborough, in the } 1769 county of Somerset, from the year 1769 } 22 years. to 1791. }

His son, James Langdon, held the Clerkship } 1791. from 1791 until 1822. } 31 years.

Edward Langdon, grandson of Roger, held } the office from 1822 until 1871, also } 1822. Organist. (Father of the subject of } 49 years. memoir.) }

Edward Langdon, great grandson of Roger, } 1871. was also Parish Clerk and Organist from } 14 years. 1871 until 1885. }

Peter Langdon next held this same position } and died recently. Great-great-grandson } 1885. of Roger Langdon. }

APPENDIX II

OBSERVATIONS OF THE PLANET VENUS, WITH A 6-INCH SILVERED GLASS REFLECTOR. BY R. LANGDON

_Communicated by J. Norman Lockyer, F.R.S._

[From the "Monthly Notices" of the Royal Astronomical Society. Vols. 31-32, June, 1872]

On May 1, 1871, I had a good view of the planet Venus, but I could not at first see her to my satisfaction as her light was so bright. She had more the appearance of a miniature sun than a star; but I put a diaphragm of blackened card in the eye-piece, and made a small hole through its centre with a piece of hot wire. I found this arrangement keep out to a great extent the glaring rays. I also sometimes used a slip of slightly tinted glass in front of the eye lens; this enabled me to bring the planet entirely under subjection. Her shape was that of the moon when a little more than half full. I distinctly saw a dull, cloudy-looking mark along her bright limb, curving round parallel to it, and extending nearly across the disc, each end terminating in a point; joining this at the eastern extremity was another and darker mark of a club shape, its small end joining the point of the mark previously described. I watched these marks for half an hour. I saw some marks again the next evening, but before I could examine them the planet was hidden behind some clouds. On May 6, at 7.45 p.m., there was a cloud-like mark extending straight across the disc, and a club-shaped mark nearly in the centre, with its small end nearly touching the straight cloud. On the western limb another dark mark had made its appearance; it was not quite so large as the other, and it was not club-shaped; but its sides were parallel to each other till they approached the straight cloud, when they appeared to divide, each side curving round away from the other. I took much interest in watching these spots, as I had read that it was very doubtful whether any marks had ever been seen on this planet. I called several men to look at them, and they were able to describe them, although they had no previous knowledge or idea of what they were likely to see. One man was very confident it was the moon he was looking at, but when I pointed out to him that the moon was not in the neighbourhood, he said he thought it was the moon, because he could plainly see the dark patches on its surface.

On May 13, at 7.30 p.m., there was a dark mark of a pear shape, extending from near the western edge to two-thirds the distance across the bright disc. This mark was not so dark as those seen on the 1st and 6th, but it was much larger.

On July 28, at 8 p.m., there were visible five dusky marks along the planet's terminator, and one nearly in the centre of the crescent, but they were not so well defined as those before described; but what seemed to me more remarkable was that the southern horn was rounded off considerably, whilst the northern horn was quite sharp, and ran out to a very fine thread-like point.

On October 13, at 5.45 a.m., I saw Venus as a beautiful little crescent. She was well defined, and both horns were as sharp as the finest pointed needles. I think I detected a dusky cloud-like mark about half way from the centre to the northern horn; but I am not quite sure about this as I had to leave my telescope before I could complete my sketch.

On October 25, at 8.10 a.m., I was gratified with a sight which I had waited for and longed to see for many years; that was to have a good view of Venus by daylight. I now had the longed-for opportunity, and it turned out as I expected. The superior light of the sun overcame that of the planet to such an extent that I was able to see her better than I had ever seen her before. I could now plainly perceive the jagged nature of the terminator, the unevenness of which could not be mistaken; but what was very remarkable, the northern horn was bent in towards the centre of the planet; it appeared as if a notch had been cut in the inside, and a slice cut off from the outside.

I have no idea what was the cause of this appearance; I had never seen it so before, neither do I recollect ever having read of such a phenomenon. I did not perceive any markings on this occasion, but there was a kind of haziness along the whole length of the terminator; but I considered this at the time to have belonged to the terminator rather than to any markings on the disc. The terminator on this occasion was inky black.

On November 9 I saw Venus every half hour during the day up to one o'clock. I made a sketch at 12.20 p.m. I could now distinctly see the jagged terminator; the nature of which was so much like that of the moon as it was possible to conceive; except that if we compare the moon's terminator to a piece of network, that of Venus would be represented by a piece of fine lace. I could also see some thin, cloudy marks on her disc. The southern horn was very sharp; the northern one was a trifle rounded.

I saw Venus on February 5, 1870 (a few days before her inferior conjunction with the sun), and the bright part was an exceedingly beautiful fine crescent; but I and several other people could see the whole body of the planet in the same manner as we see the dark limb of the moon when _Earth-shine_ is falling upon it; but I did not make any sketch at the time.

I have observed Venus a great many times besides those mentioned above, having made it my special work to do so, and have on several occasions strongly suspected markings to be visible; but I have not mentioned them, and have only described those times upon which I have no doubt of what I had seen.

SILVERTON STATION, NEAR CULLOMPTON, DEVON.

(Sketches illustrating this and the following paper can be seen at the Royal Astronomical Society's rooms.)

APPENDIX III

OBSERVATIONS OF THE PLANET VENUS, WITH A 6-INCH SILVERED GLASS REFLECTOR. BY R. LANGDON

[From the "Monthly Notices" of the Royal Astronomical Society, June 1873. Vol. 33, Page 500.]

On January 2, 1873, there was a cloudy mark, of a semicircular shape, extending nearly across the disc, and a dark spot in the centre; the illuminated disc itself was singularly egg-shaped. Bad weather prevented me from constantly observing this planet, as I should like to have done, but on April 17, at 8 p.m., I was viewing the planet with one of Mr. Browning's excellent achromatic eye-pieces, when I saw two exceedingly bright spots on the crescent--one close to the terminator towards the eastern horn, and the other in the centre of the crescent. These spots appeared like two drops of dew; they were glistening in such a manner as to cause the surrounding parts of the bright crescent to appear dull by contrast. Cloudy weather prevented me seeing the planet again until the 19th, when the spots had disappeared, but the planet on this occasion was seen through the Aurora, and the irregular and uneven appearance of the terminator was most beautifully depicted. The whole body of the planet also was distinctly visible.

APPENDIX IV

A LETTER FROM THE MAN IN THE MOON

(_Left for the Editor at the Railway Station_)

[Reprinted from the _Exe Valley Magazine_]

DEAR COUSIN,--

Knowing how exceedingly anxious you must be to find out all you can respecting this little planet on which I live, I take this opportunity to send you a few lines to give you some little account of it.

The moon, in many particulars, is like the earth on which you dwell; and perhaps there is no better way to give you a little more information about this planet than by instituting a comparison between it and the earth.

I must presume you are aware that the earth is a globe, nearly round, like an orange; its circumference is about 24,000 miles, and its diameter 8,000. The moon in this respect is like the earth, being also a globe, but it is only 2,160 miles in diameter, and about 7,000 miles in circumference. It would therefore take forty-nine moons to compose a globe the size of the earth. If you will take two threads and suspend an orange and a small cherry at six feet apart, you will then have a fair representation of the relative size and distance from each other of the earth and the moon. But the earth and the moon are not suspended by any visible or tangible object, but were launched forth in the beginning, and are kept in their places by the balance of attraction, constantly revolving, and travelling onward by the direction of Him who also created the insignificant worm, and whose tender care is over all His works.

You know, dear cousin, that the surface of the earth is diversified with large continents, which are dotted with chains of mountains and high hills, some of which are in a state of volcanic eruption. You have also great oceans of water lying in the hollows of your world. In the moon, too, we have mountains and hills, some of them very high and steep, thrown up ages ago by volcanic agency, though at present there is not a trace of existing fire or volcanic action, and you may safely consider the whole mass of the moon to be a huge, exhausted, burnt-out cinder. Your mountains and hills are denuded--worn down--their sharp points and angles are worn away by frost, rain, and snow, and other atmospheric influences which have been constantly acting upon them for ages; but here in the moon we have no such thing as an atmosphere: we therefore have neither clouds nor rain, nor frost nor snow; and in the words of the poet--

Here are no storms, no noise, But silence and eternal sleep.

All here is as quiet and silent as the grave. Sometimes, from the great heat of the sun, great masses of rock will split and crack, and come tumbling down from the sides of the cliffs; yet if you were close on the spot you would not hear the slightest sound, because there is no atmosphere by which sound can be propagated and conveyed. Your fields are clad with verdure, and your pastures with flocks, so that as one of your inspired poets has sung--

The valley stands so thick with corn That they do laugh and sing,

but neither verdure nor corn can exist upon the moon, as no plant-life can grow in a vacuum where there is no moisture.

The crater mountains of the moon are its grand peculiarities. We see here that its whole surface has been upturned, convulsed and dislocated with forces of the greatest activity, the results of which remain to this day; so that our rocks are not levelled down by the fury of tempests, nor smoothed by the constant flow of water, as your earthly mountains are, but stand up in all their primitive sharpness. These volcanic craters are of all sizes, from fifty yards to as many miles across, and in the centre of some of them there stand up lofty hills. Now if you could take up your position upon the highest peak of one of these central hills at the time the sun was rising, you would see the tops of the distant mountains forming a circle round you all illuminated by the sun's light; but as there is no atmosphere, there is no twilight, and consequently the great valley immediately beneath your feet would be in the very blackest of darkness.

I know that you and others have often wondered what those dark grey patches are which you can see upon the moon, even with the unassisted eye. Some people call them "The man in the moon, and his bundle of sticks," and the story goes that I went stealing sticks on a Sunday, and for my wickedness was banished (sticks and all) into the moon! Now I most strongly protest against this cruel libel; I never stole any sticks, even on a week-day, much less on a Sunday, and I must say the people must have dreadful weak eyesight, and a dreadfully strong imagination, to see anything in these dark patches that can possibly be stretched into the shape of a man with a bundle of sticks at his back. So I hope you will kindly contradict this calumnious story whenever you can; indeed, in writing, it was partly my object to ask you to do so.

One of the smallest dark markings that you can see on the moon with the naked eye is known to selenographers by the name of Mare Crisium, or the Crisian Sea; its width across from north to south is 280 miles, and its length is 354 miles from east to west, and it contains about 78,000 square miles, more than half as much again as the area of England and Wales--rather a large size for a bundle of sticks, I opine. There are several other dark or grey patches on the moon, some smaller and some larger than the Mare Crisium, but they are all the beds or bottoms of what were once oceans, seas, and lakes, the waters of which have been dried up or evaporated many years ago. Some think they have all gone over to that side of the moon which never turns round towards you, but I can tell you that is not the case; for if any water did exist on the moon's surface, the attraction of the earth would certainly draw it round to that side nearest to you, and so you would be able to see some signs of it, as well as clouds and vapours which would rise from it during the time of full moon.

There are many other objects of interest, which I could mention to you, but I must draw my letter to a close; I will therefore only just give you the names of a few of those dark hollows which you can see with the unaided eye when the full moon is shining brightly.

There is the "Sea of Tranquillity": its width from north to south is 432 miles, and from east to west 425 miles. There are also the "Sea of Serenity," the "Sea of Fogs," the "Frozen Sea," the "Sea of Vapours" and the "Gulf of Rainbows." This last named will appear to you of a greenish tint, and it is surrounded on nearly all sides with very lofty and steep mountains, some of them more than 15,000 feet high. Then there are the "Ocean of Storms," the "Gulf of Dew," and the "Sea of Humours." This last will also appear of a green tint; it is very level, and is 280 miles across.

Next come the "Sea of Nectar" and the "Sea of Fertility." All these were named "seas," because the ancient astronomers thought they contained water, and that they really were seas; but you are aware now that they contain no trace of water, so I need not inform you of that fact. And now dear cousin, I sincerely hope that what I have written will interest you, and if it does, and you will kindly let me know, I will write you another letter at some future time; but for the present I will say--Farewell!

Your faithful servant and attached cousin,

"The Man in the Moon."

R. LANGDON.

APPENDIX V

A JOURNEY WITH COGGIA'S COMET

[Reprinted from _Home Words_]

This comet, which last year excited so much interest, is supposed by some to be the same which appeared in the year 1737. If so, it is beyond the power of the human intellect to calculate the number of miles (millions upon millions) which it has travelled since that date; we may, however, in imagination, travel with it on one of its journeys.

Starting off then, as soon as it has made its perihelion passage, we are carried in the course of about six months to such a distance that this comparatively insignificant world (of which nevertheless we are all anxious to get a good slice) disappears entirely from our view, and the larger planets of this system are reduced to mere specks of light. The sun itself, which here scorches us at noonday, only appears there as a very minute star, just a small yellow speck. But meantime other suns, some of them of far greater magnitude and superior brilliancy than the sun we have left behind, gradually come into sight, and some of the "nebulae," which appear to us here as so many bits of faint hazy light, some of them no larger than a crown piece, now appear to our unassisted vision in all the glorious majesty of suns and worlds and systems of worlds, all revolving round each other in the most regular and systematic order; for, as Milton says in _Paradise Lost_, "Order is Heaven's first law."

After our steed had carried us for the space of about seventy years in a direct onward course through systems of worlds by us from this world unseen, we should begin to return homewards, but by a different route from that by which we went out; and we should consequently have a constantly varying scene presented to our view. How awfully grand, for instance, would be the change, as we gradually lost sight of our yellow sun, to find ourselves arriving in sight and under the influence of a sun of a rich crimson red colour, and again after a few years to find ourselves in the presence of a green or a blue sun! Yet it is more than probable that such would be the case, for the sky is spangled with suns of all colours.

In the course of about 137 years from the time when we set out we should be returned sufficiently near to this world to enable its inhabitants to catch sight of our steed's tail. And then, after all this long journey among the stars of 137 years, we should have seen but a mere atom, just one grain of the works of Him who knows the number of the hairs of our heads, and without whom a sparrow doth not fall to the ground!

Suppose we now inquire, What is the comet's probable business in coming amongst us once in 137 years? Are its duties those of a messenger or a scavenger, or both? It is well known that the sun is continually giving off light and heat, and consequently it must of necessity be gradually exhausting itself. It has been computed that were the mass of the sun composed of Newcastle coal, with exhaustion going on at the present rate, the whole mass would be burnt out in 25,000 years. If the sun, then, is gradually being exhausted by giving off light and heat to his family of planets, and if the planets cannot give any portion of it back to him, seeing that they are entirely dependent upon the sun for their own physical and material existence--how is the sun's strength to be kept up so as to be equal to the demands made upon him?

It is but reasonable to suppose that the comets (of which the firmament is said to be as full as the sea is of fishes) should bring some subtle fluid of which this system is being exhausted, and at the same time collect and carry away to other systems some noxious gas or other essence of which we have a superfluity, but which might be quite essential to the well-being of some other system; and that so a sort of healthy circulation in the universe around us might be kept up.

Ought we not, therefore, to look upon the appearance of a comet with some such feelings (only in a wider sense) as we would hail the arrival of a ship from a long voyage to a foreign clime, feeling sure it must come laden with some good store for the benefit of those whose business it is to stay at home performing faithfully their own several duties in their own several spheres?

R. LANGDON.

APPENDIX VI

THE PLANET VENUS

MY DEAR NELLY-BLY,--

According to promise I send a sketch showing the different positions of the planet Venus with regard to the earth during the past few months.

I am astonished, not to say grieved, at the very great amount of ignorance and superstition which exists respecting the apparition of this planet recently as a "morning star."

If you will refer to the sketch I will try and point out the various positions.

June 13, 1887, Venus began to appear low down towards the western horizon as an "evening star," but as the evenings were then light I suppose it did not attract public attention. Daily, however, the planet for a time was seen--after sunset--higher and higher in the western sky, until August 16, when it arrived in such a position with respect to the earth that it sent towards us the greatest amount of reflected light that it is possible it can send at any given time. The planet travelling through space in her orbit at the rate of sixty-nine thousand miles an hour overtook the earth (which is travelling in the same direction at fifty-eight thousand miles an hour) on September 21, when she was exactly in a straight line between us and the sun--called astronomically, "inferior conjunction." The moment she passes this point she becomes a morning star. She still moves on and leaves the earth behind, and when she arrives at the position shown on October 28 she is at her greatest brilliancy as a morning star. From this time the planet's distance from us is rapidly increasing, and consequently her apparent size and brilliancy are as rapidly decreasing, and she is soon altogether lost in the rays of the sun and can only be seen by the aid of a telescope.

Venus makes a complete revolution round the sun in 224 days and 17 hours, but as the earth moves in the same direction but at a slower rate the planet overtakes the earth in about nineteen months, when we have her again as an evening and morning star respectively as before, and so on continually.

And this is the Star of Bethlehem which has caused such a stir within the past two months. All sorts of ridiculous speculation and superstitious nonsense have been said concerning it. Verily in this our day of rapid advancement we are almost, if not quite, as ignorant of astronomical matters as were the "wise men" of the East nearly two thousand years ago, or the natives of Zululand of the present day.

I hope I have made this plain to you; or if there is anything you do not understand, just ask the question and I will endeavour to supply the information.

Yours affectionately,

R. LANGDON.

PS.--It is rather singular that Venus rotates upon her axis in such time as to produce a Leap Year once in four years as with us.--R. L.

APPENDIX VII

SILVERTON,

_Jan. 31, 1888._

DEAR BLY,--

I thought I would send a sketch of the eclipse Annie and I stayed up to see. We had a very beautiful, clear night, not a cloud to be seen. The moon entered its eastern edge into the Penumbra at 8.29 and into the dark shadow at 9.30; and at 11 p.m. the moon was in the centre of the shadow or totally eclipsed, but we could still see it appearing like a large orange and we could see all the principal craters and mountains through the shadow, and I was very interested to watch the stars disappear one after another behind the edge of the moon. Of course I have not shown the sun in the sketch because there is not room, but you must imagine the sun to be about the size of a round table a good distance away to the left of the earth.

Now I will try and explain to you what the Penumbra is and how it is produced. It is produced simply because the sun is so much larger than the earth, and you can make a little experiment and show Freddy and William how it is done. Place two lighted candles or lamps about the width of this paper apart which will represent the sun, then a little way off on a white cloth on the table place a teacup upside down which will do very well to represent the earth, then you will have the black shadow of the Penumbra or half shadow on each side of it. A sixpence will represent the moon, which you can slide gradually across the shadows, and you will have the eclipse to a "t."

It is necessary to have two candles or lamps because the sun is so much greater than the earth and the two candles' light combined represents the sun's light. A small orange perhaps would represent the earth as well or better than a teacup, because the shadow of a cup would not run out to a sharp point, but that of an orange would. That would not matter much either way, only Freddy would most likely be asking the question and you would not be able to answer him.

Your affectionate

DAD.

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[Transcriber's Notes:

Page 44, "shilings" changed to "shillings"

Page 55, the word "to" may have been omitted before the word "each". It has been added in this text. "We got near enough to speak to each other ..."]