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of the seventh magnitude by the moon, and it disappeared in a moment. It entered, or was immersed, at the dark side of the moon when not more than half enlightened, consequently the effect was curious and very beautiful; for not being able to see the dark part of the moon when it arrived at it and passed behind it, it seemed to be annihilated in space, or as if it had been blown out, or as if some giant hand had extinguished it, or as if, with a sudden bound forward, it had plunged into some dark gulf, and was swallowed up for ever. Now,

* Mr. Nasmyth has suggested, in a letter which I lately received from him, what I fully concur in, viz. the possibility of realising at occultations an instant of time, and, therefore, as I conceive, of approximating in some measure at least to a notion of the swiftness manifested by the heavenly bodies, as seen actually in transitu. The occultation of a star by the moon is, indeed, the only opportunity that I know of thus afforded for gaining anything like a shadow of an appreciation in the mind of such grand and terrible objects-terrible from their swiftness combined with their size. Mr. Nasmyth accordingly says, "I know of no more perfect realisation of an instant of time than that of the disappearance of a star at occultation. It is quicker than your graphic blown out'-quicker than snuffed out: it is gone in the millionth of a twinkling!" This is true; and yet what is this to other and swifter movements of planetary bodies? The lunar motion of 2000 miles an hour is, after all, but the slow creeping of a snail compared to the lightning-speed of the planet Mercury, which rushes round the sun, accomplishing in the same short period of an hour one hundred and nine thousand eight hundred miles! Such movements as these, indeed, are utterly inconceivable and inappreciable to our present faculties. The motion of the moon, however, seems more within the reach of our conception, and the occultation of a star by her affords us a momentary glimpse at least-it can be no more-of this stupendous subject. And with a powerful telescope, the observer, stationing himself at a distance of from 500 to 1000 miles from her solid sphere, 6000 miles in circumference, can actually see it in transitu-see it pass (as a railway train rushes by the spectator) a stationary object in the sky above (the star which is occulted), but at a rate fearful to contemplate. This invests this phenomenon with a never-ceasing and solemn interest. The grandeur, the stateliness of the motion-so peculiar, so different from anything terrestrial: there is, in fact, nothing at all resembling it that I have ever seen here below. Accordingly, Mr. Nasmyth truly and beauti

Nor is this all.

however, I had a most interesting opportunity of comparing notes with the former occasion. A planet was about to be occulted—a more rare phenomenon; and having a disc, which the fixed star has not from its immense distance, a finer test would therefore be afforded. So large a disc would be likely to show colour or distortion in passing through a transparent medium like our atmosphere, if the moon possessed such. Consequently, the interest with which I looked increased every moment. Now-now-I thought, surely it will disappear; but no-not yet-it shines clearly and steadily. No change of colour or shape as yet: and now the circumference of its disc all but touches the edge of the large crater already mentioned. A little to the south of this, on the edge of the moon, were three mountains, whose bright tops stood prominently out of the darkness. Instead of passing directly behind the crater then, as I at first imagined it would, Mars directed his way, rolling, as it were, or walking along the edge of the moon straight for the illuminated mountains, along the tops of which he passed slowly, like a golden ball, half his dise having sunk behind them; but as he passed between each mountain, where there was necessarily a valley or opening, the entire disc became again visible for a moment. was repeated thrice; when at length, having performed his beautiful and magnificent journey across the lunar mountains, he emerged for a second or two with but a third part of his disc visible, which slowly and gradually sank below the body of our satellite, and at length disappeared as our own sun sinks on the horizon of our western sky.

This

A more striking and beautiful sight I never witnessed. In so far as this occultation may be considered as a test of the existence of a lunar atmosphere, it is in one point only

fully observes, "I know of nothing more glorious than such sights; the majestic steadiness of the motion-no jerks which even the most perfect human mechanism has always more or less of, but a grand, solid, steady movement, that has much of the Divine majesty of mind in it."

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slightly in its favour, and that not conclusive; for while not the least distortion or change of colour was visible which ought to have accompanied such a phenomenon if an atmosphere existed, the oblique direction of the planet's apparent motion was such as to account, in a great measure, for its gradual disappearance. I look, therefore, upon this occultation, as I saw it, as anti-atmospheric in its testimony. But Mars was gone from view, and a world had disappeared behind a space that my hand could cover. My watch and clock both testified to the accuracy of the appointment kept by these two planets at this solitary hour; or rather their Divine accuracy enabled me to regulate the inaccuracy and imperfection of human invention and manufacture; for I was enabled to set my watch, which was three minutes too fast, and the clock, which was as many minutes too slow, by a somewhat unusual method, viz. the disappearance of a universe which, together with its (probably) millions of inhabitants, its oceans, forests, valleys, mountains, and islands, rolled on and passed away in a moment, like a dream or vision of the night. As I turned the hands to the figures, the moon looked cold, deserted, and solitary after losing her companion; and so did I feel. So leaving her to herself, and Mars to find his way out at the other side, and be the object of some more patient watcher, particularly as I saw my enemies, the white clouds, again mustering for a charge, I retired to rest-but not to sleep. Visions of the glorious scene I had witnessed floated before my eyes; the discs of the two bodies I had been gazing at so long remained imprinted upon the retina; strange sounds rang in my ears; the open window was again before me; I thought I could see far, far away into the very depths of heaven itself; and a clear, soft voice kept sounding in my ear, "Come up hither, and I will show thee greater things than these."

J. C.

THE ANGEL'S VOICE.

I.

THE last notes of the anthem were still whispering amid the distant aisles, and the last footfall of the evening worshippers had ceased to echo through the venerable pile, when the stony eyes of the grim old carvings of the fretted roof looked down upon four silent men, who seemed so bound by some mighty spell that they could neither speak nor stir.

These four were famous amid their fellows for their power in song, and music knit them into a brotherhood peculiarly its own. Their names were different, but in song their hearts were one; and Wilhelm Berlenz, Oskar Neubert, Carl Dijeck, and Johann Meyer, were ever looked upon by their townsfellows as a family in themselves.

That

"Carl Dijeck," whispered Wilhelm Berlenz, "there was a voice amid the choir which savoured not of earth. stream of song never passed through human lip."

"Hush, Wilhelm! hush!" muttered Carl Dijeck between his teeth, "'tis still vibrating upon my ear, 'tis still floating through my brain."

"I would 'twere mine," said Wilhelm Berlenz; "the golden chain which the townsfolk gave would I freely give again to have it for a single year."

"The voice which thou wouldest have is neither to be bought nor sold!" and as these words were spoken, light brightened around Wilhelm Berlenz and his comrades, till, dazzled by its radiance, they laid their hands upon their eyes.

“Wilhelm Berlenz," continued the one that spake, "thou hast truly said, thou hast heard a voice which singeth in other choirs than those of earth, it would not be well for

A LOAN FOR THREE YEARS.

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any to be intrusted with such a voice while they are in the flesh."

"I would give my life for it," answered Wilhelm Berlenz, "if only I might have it for a while.”

"If it were given to thee," said the one that spake, "it would shake to pieces thy mortal frame, for it hath the energies of another life, and it would cast on thee terrible responsibilities which as a man thou couldest not fulfil."

"Nevertheless would I have it,-aye, even with them all." "Thou canst have no gift, Wilhelm Berlenz, nor can thy brethren here, without having to give account thereof. Then, why shouldest thou wish for this?"

"Ever would we sing psalms, and be heard in madrigals, and serenades, and other songs no more, if we could sing after the fashion which we have just now heard." And to these words of Carl Dijeck's, all gave assent as though they had been one.

"This voice thou canst not have," said the being to whom Carl Dijeck's speech had been addressed, "but thou canst have that of the next degree, if thou wilt take the responsibilities which it entails."

"We take it," said they all.

"Remember! all God's gifts are vouchsafed for His own honour, and must be spent for, and thus return to, Him." "We remember," said they all.

"In three years ye must give account."

"We will give account." And then the brightness which was around the four young men faded away and left them in the dim twilight in which they had been before, and solemnly, but withal gladly, they turned their steps toward their homes.

II.

When the twilight had long deepened into night, the four brethren in song met beneath the great oak-tree to