poses him to be the type of the planet Mercury, which is sometimes a morning and sometimes an evening star. The symbol seems to have been chosen from that animal being supposed to watch day and night, and thus to be a fit guardian of Osiris (the Sun), and Isis (the Moon). The Grecian allegory of Castor and Pollux is too well known to need repetition in this place. Some mythologists among the Greeks designate the Twins by the names of Hercules and Apollo.

Gemini has the Lynx on the north, Cancer on the east, Monoceros and Canis Minor on the south, and Taurus on the west. It contains 85 stars; two of the 2d magnitude, four of the 3d, and six of the 4th. The principal star is Castor, which first appears on the N.N.E. E. point of the compass, at London. Its declination is 32° 16'6", right ascension 110° 46′ 25′′, and meridian altitude 70° 45' 6". The following are the times of its rising and culminating for the 1st of each month in 1820, according to the Celestial Atlas, already referred to: viz.

Passing from the horns of Taurus to the east, Castor and Pollux, the two principal stars in this constellation, are found rather more than an hour's distance from the confines of the milky way. They are situated in the exterior temples of the Twins; a (Castor) being the more elevated, and B (Pollux) being the lower star. The former is in the eastern angle of a great triangle, formed by it, the pole star and Capella, situated north-west of Castor, and near the eastern borders of the milky way. Capella appears rather nearer to Castor than to the pole. This

constellation is also readily found by supposing a right line drawn from Aldebaran, the Bull's eye, through the star in the tip of the lower horn, and it will cross the milky way, and pass between Castor and Pollux, in the heads of the Twins.

In the revolution of the heavens, Castor passes vertically over the Barbary states, Palestine, Persia, Tibet, part of China, and Japan, with Louisiana, the southern extremity of the United States of North America, Bermudas, &c.

CANCER (), the Crab.

This is the first of the three summer signs which the Sun enters on the 21st of June; and thus introduces the first day of summer, and the longest in the year, in these northern latitudes. As the Sun continually revolves about the north pole without setting all the time he is on the north side of the equator, the moment he enters Cancer may be considered as the noon of the polar day. On this day, too, he attains his greatest declination, and is vertical to the tropic of Cancer. The circle which separates light and darkness just touches the Arctic circle; so that the whole of the Arctic regions are now completely illuminated during, at least, an entire revolution of the Sun. The parallel of London has now its longest day, which extends from about a quarter before 4 in the morning till a quarter after 8 at night.

This constellation appears to have originated either in Egypt or India, as in both these antient zodiacs the sign of the Crab is found, though in some of them its place is supplied by a Beetle. Some of the most antient mythologists placed Hermanubis in the place now assigned to the Crab. This was symbolized by a man (Hermes) with the head of an Ibis, or hawk. Several of the antient Egyptian monuments still exhibit traces of this symbolization; and M. Belzoni observes, "The entrances to the sepulchres of the Egyptian kings, in the sacred

valley of Beban-el-Malook, are generally surmounted with a bas-relief, representing an oval, in which are sculptured a Scarabæus, or Beetle, and the figure of a man with the head of a hawk. On each side of this emblem are two figures in the act of adoration." The common year of the Egyptians commenced when the Sun was in this sign: the Nile was then approaching its height, and the waters were discoloured and muddy. Two asses were placed as the symbol of, the Chaldean name of which has been translated muddiness. Plutarch says that, in the month Payn, when the Sun was in Cancer, the Egyptians baked cakes, on which was the figure of an ass bound.

The contiguous constellations are the Lynx on the north, Leo on the east, Hydra on the south, and Gemini on the west. The whole number of stars in this sign is 83, but none of them exceeds the 4th magnitude, of which class there are seven: the remaining 76 are all less. a Canceris, near the eastern extremity of the southern great claw, has 12° 31′ 6′′ of north declination, 132° 9′ 20′′ of right ascension, and passes the meridian of London at an altitude of 51°0′ 6′′. Its rising and culmination for the 1st of each month in 1820, are stated as follows: viz.

This sign may be distinguished in the heavens by supposing a line drawn through the two stars, Castor and Pollux, and it will cut the ecliptic in the western part of the body of the Crab, eastwards of which a line of five or six small stars is seen extending across the sign, in the direction of the ecliptic, till they are terminated by three stars, forming a small triangle,

near the northern extremity of the southern great claw, with its longest side upwards. In the upper part of the sign there are also eight stars, forming a kind of L, with its opening to the north-east.

[To be continued.]

The Naturalist's Diary

For NOVEMBER 1823.

The earth mourneth and languisheth; Lebanon is ashamed and withereth away; Sharon is like a wilderness; and Bashan and Carmel shake off their fruits.-ISAIAH XXXiii, 9.

THE footsteps of contemplation are now found amid the ruins of the year, and we surrender ourselves most readily to the quietudes of a serious thoughtfulness-and deep and interesting impressions are borne home upon the heart-in every breath that soothes, in every beam that gilds, and in every variety of colouring that adorns the landscape. But soon, too soon, shall we be compelled to exclaim with the poet, in reference to this, generally speaking, gloomy month,

That time of year thou may'st in me behold,

When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang

On those wild boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare, ruined quires where late the sweet birds sang.

November, however, has its bright as well as its dark side. It is now (observes a pleasing writer, before quoted (that the Labourer is about to enjoy a temporary mitigation of the season's toil. His little store of winter provision having been hardly earned and safely lodged, his countenance brightens, and his heart warms, with the anticipation of winter comforts. As the day shortens, and the hours of darkness increase, the domestic affections are awakened anew by a closer and more lengthened converse; the father is now once more in the midst of his family; the child is now once more on the knee of its parent; and she, in whose

comfort his heart is principally interested, is again permitted, by the privileges of the season, to increase and to participate his happiness. It is now that the Husbandman is repaid for his former risk and anxiety -that, having waited patiently for the former and the latter rain, he builds up his sheaves, loads his waggons, and replenishes his barns.

It is now that Men of study and literary pursuit are admonished of the season best suited for the acquisition of knowledge. Learning is now opening her gates, and Night is fast advancing her claims to the renewed labours of the student, to those evening hours of watching, and reflection, and investigation, which will so amply repay the trouble.

The congregating of small birds, which was noticed as commencing in the last month, still_continues. The long-tailed titmouse (parus caudatus) is now seen in troops in the tall hedge-rows. We have no bird more remarkable for its family association than this; he is never seen alone, but continues with his offspring, which is a very numerous one, from the time of hatching, till the final separation in spring. They seem the most restless of little creatures, and are all the day long in a state of progression from one field to another, flitting through the air like balls of feathers with long projecting tails, or threading the branches of a tree, or bushes of a hedge, following each other in a little stream: the leading bird utters a shrill call (twit, twit, twit), and away they all scuttle in a hurry to be first, stop for a second, and then are off again, observing the same order and precipitation during the whole day. The space traversed by these little animals in the course of their progresses, from their first moving until roosting time, must be considerable; yet, small as they are, they appear by their constant animation and alacrity to be fully equal to the performance of this daily occupation. Their food is insects, which they find under the lichens and mosses, surrounding