Though there were many giants of old in physic and philosophy, yet I say, with Didacus Stella, “A dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant may see farther than a giant himself.”—Burton, Anat. of Melancholy.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE PLANET NEPTUNE.

In his solitary study sat a young man, pale and thoughtful. His eyes were fixed upon myriads of numerals, through whose complexity his far-reaching mind saw into the untold mysteries of the solar universe. His glass was not pointed to the heavens, his eyes looked not out upon the stars, but his soul, in deep abstraction, pondered over the perturbations of Uranus, as noted for many a year before by many a casual observer. He measured the intensity and the direction of the disturbing forces, questioned the planet that was seen and known concerning the unknown cause of its irregularities, and compelled a star, itself beyond the reach of the common eye, to tell of the whereabouts, the volume, the orbit, of its fellow, which no eye, even through an optic-glass, had ever yet seen, and whose very existence then came for the first time upon the mental vision of the youthful sage through the power of numerical calculation. His was a faith. It was the evidence of things not seen. But it was like that higher and better faith of which spake the great Apostle of the Gentiles,—fast and sure. Full of his discovery, Le Verrier offered his conclusions to the Academy; but learned men, when assembled in bodies, give to enthusiasts but a cold reception. Le Verrier, sure of his position, then wrote to Dr. Galle, the Astronomer-Royal in Berlin, asking him to point his powerful glass to a certain quarter of the heavens, where must be found at that time the last of the planets. And there it was; and thence it was traced upon its mighty way, bending, like its fellows, to the distant influence of its great centre, the sun. There is something almost affecting in the thought that Le Verrier should have been denied the first direct sight of the sublime star towards which his soul had been so long leaning and which had so long been within his mental vision. It was, however, a fortunate loss, since his adversaries would have charged him with having found by chance what he detected by reason, and thus have placed in a common category one of the most magnificent discoveries of modern times, a beautiful illustration of the gigantic power of calculation.

The distance of Neptune from the sun is 2,810,000,000 miles, and the time required for its orbital revolution, 164 years. Its diameter is 41,500 miles.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE PLANET VULCAN.

Leverrier, encouraged and made illustrious by his success in exploring those infinite spaces beyond the orbit of Herschel, turned his attention to the innermost circles—the central region of our solar system. By theoretical demonstrations, based on irregularities in the movements of Mercury, he proved the existence of some planet or planets lying still more closely within the light and heat of the sun. While proceeding with his calculations, he received a letter from Lescarbault—a poor physician of OrgÈres, a village in the department of Eure and Loire, in France—announcing the discovery of an intra-Mercurial body, making its transit, in appearance like a small black spot, across the disk of the sun. Possessed of a sensitive and modest soul,—as all true lovers of science are,—the doctor at first doubted the reality of his discovery, and hesitated to make it known. It was only after vainly waiting nine months, to verify his observation by another view of the object, that he prepared a letter, narrating what he thought he had seen, and sent it to the great Leverrier. The latter had just published an article on Mercury’s perturbations in the Kosmos of Paris. Astonished at this coincident proof of the correctness of his theory, he lost no time in starting for the village of OrgÈres, to obtain a personal interview with the humble discoverer of the new orb. The following account of the meeting was reported in the Kosmos by the AbbÉ Moigne, who took it from the lips of Leverrier himself:—

Leverrier left Paris for OrgÈres, in company with Vallee, four days after the date of Lescarbault’s letter. OrgÈres was twelve miles from the nearest railroad-station, and the party had to foot it across the country. On their arrival, Leverrier knocked loudly at the door, which was opened by the doctor himself; but his visitor declined to give his name. The simple, modest, timid Lescarbault, small in stature, stood abashed before the tall Leverrier, who, in blunt intonation, addressed him thus: “It is you, then, sir, who pretend to have discovered the intra-Mercurial planet, and who have committed the grave offence of keeping your discovery secret for nine months! I come to do justice to your pretensions, to warn you that you have either been dishonest or deceived. Tell me unequivocally what you have seen.” The lamb-like doctor, trembling at this rude summons, stammered out the following reply:—

“On the 26th of March (1859), about four o’clock, I turned my telescope to the sun, when, to my surprise, I saw, at a small distance from its margin, a black spot, well defined, and perfectly round, advancing upon the disk of the sun. A customer called me away, and, hurrying him off as fast as I could, I came back to my glass, when I found the round spot had continued its transit, and I saw it disappear from the opposite margin of the sun, after a projection upon it of an hour and a half. I did not seize the precise moment of contact. The spot was on the disk when I first saw it. I measured its distance from the margin, and counted the time it took to make the same distance, and so approximated the instant of its entry.” “To count time is easy to say,” said Leverrier; “but where is your chronometer?” “My chronometer is this watch, that beats only minutes,—the faithful companion of my professional labors.” “What! with that old watch? How dare you talk of counting seconds? My suspicions are too well founded.” “Pardon me, sir, but I have a pendulum that nearly beats seconds, and I will bring it down to show you.” He goes above-stairs and brings down a silken thread, the upper end of which he fastens to a nail, and brings to rest the ivory ball at the lower end. He then starts it from the vertical, and its oscillations beat seconds very nearly. “This is not enough, sir: how do you count these seconds while in the act of observing?” “My profession is to feel pulses and count their pulsations, and my pendulum puts my seconds into my ears, and I have no difficulty in counting them.”

“But where is your telescope?” The doctor showed Leverrier his glass, which was one of Cauchoix’s best. It was four inches in diameter, and mounted on a rude stand. He took the wondering astronomer-imperial to his roof, where he was building a rude revolving platform and dome. “This is all very well; but where is your original memorandum?” The doctor ran and got his almanac, or Connaissance des Temps, and in it he finds a square piece of paper, used as a marker, and on it, all covered with grease and laudanum, is the original memorandum! “But you have falsified the time of emergence. It is four minutes too late by this memorandum.” “It is; but the four minutes are the error of my watch, which I corrected by sidereal time, by the aid of this little telescope.”

“But how did you determine the two angular co-ordinates of the point of contact, of the entry and emergence of the planet, and how did you measure the chord of the arc between them?” Having explained the simple method which he pursued in the premises to the satisfaction of the astronomer, the latter next inquired after his rough drafts of calculation for determining the distance of the planet from the sun. “My rough draughts! Paper is scarce with us. I am a joiner as well as an astronomer. I write on my boards, and when I am done, I plane them off and begin again; but I think I have preserved them.” On visiting the shop, they found the board, with all its lines and numbers still unobliterated!

The Parisian savant was now convinced that Lescarbault had really seen the planet whose existence he had himself foretold. Turning to the amateur astronomer, he revealed his personality, and congratulated his humble brother on the magnificent discovery thus confirmed. It was the event in the OrgÈres physician’s life. Honors poured in upon him. The cross of the Legion of Honor was sent to him from Paris, and his name was at once enrolled in the lists of the leading scientific academies of Europe.

The new orb, whose revolution is performed in 19 days, 17 hours, has been felicitously named Vulcan. If objection be offered to the selection of names for the planets from “Olympus’ dread hierarchy,” it must at least be acknowledged that there is a peculiar fitness in their distribution.

INGENIOUS STRATAGEM OF COLUMBUS

During the fourth voyage of Columbus, while prosecuting his discoveries among the West India Islands and along the coast of the continent, his vessels, from continual subjection to tempestuous weather, and being, to use his own expression, “bored by the worms as full of holes as a honey-comb,” were reduced to mere wrecks, unable any longer to keep the sea, and were finally stranded on the shore of Jamaica. Being beyond the possibility of repair, they were fitted up for the temporary use of Columbus, who was in feeble health, and of such of his crew as were disabled by sickness, those who were well being sent abroad for assistance and supplies. Their immediate wants were amply provided for, Diego Mendez having made arrangements with the natives for a daily exchange of knives, combs, beads, fish-hooks, &c., for cassava bread, fish, and other provisions. In the course of a short time, however, provisions on the island became scarce, and the supplies began gradually to fall off. The arrangements for the daily delivery of certain quantities were irregularly attended to, and finally ceased entirely. The Indians no longer thronged to the harbor with provisions, and often refused them when applied for. The Spaniards were obliged to forage about the neighborhood for their daily food, but found more and more difficulty in procuring it; and now, in addition to their other causes of despondency, they began to entertain horrible apprehensions of famine.

The admiral heard the melancholy forebodings of his men, and beheld the growing evil, but was at a loss for a remedy. To resort to force was an alternative full of danger, and of but temporary efficacy. It would require all those who were well enough to bear arms to sally forth, while he and the rest of the infirm would be left defenceless on board the wreck, exposed to the vengeance of the natives.

In the mean time, the scarcity daily increased. The Indians perceived the wants of the white men, and had learned from them the art of making bargains. They asked ten times the former quantity of European articles for a given amount of provisions, and brought their supplies in scanty quantities, to enhance the eagerness of the Spaniards. At length even this relief ceased, and there was an absolute distress for want of food, the natives withholding all provisions, in hopes either of starving the admiral and his people, or of driving them from the island.

In this extremity, a fortunate idea suddenly presented itself to Columbus. From his knowledge of astronomy, he ascertained that within three days there would be a total eclipse of the moon, in the early part of the night. He sent, therefore, an Indian of the island of Hispaniola, who served as his interpreter, to summon the principal caciques to a grand conference, appointing for it the day of the eclipse. When all were assembled, he told them, by his interpreter, that he and his followers were worshippers of a deity who lived in the skies; that this deity favored such as did well, but punished all transgressors; that, as they must all have noticed, he had protected Diego Mendez and his companions in their voyage, they having gone in obedience to the orders of their commander, but that, on the other hand, he had visited Francisco de Porras and his companions with all kinds of crosses and afflictions, in consequence of their rebellion; that this great deity was incensed against the Indians who had refused or neglected to furnish his faithful worshippers with provisions, and intended to chastise them with pestilence and famine. Lest they should disbelieve this warning, a signal would be given that very night, in the heavens. They would behold the moon change its color, and gradually lose its light,—a token of the fearful punishment which awaited them.

Many of the Indians were alarmed at the solemnity of this prediction; others treated it with scoffing: all, however, awaited with solicitude the coming of the night, and none with more than Columbus himself, who was distracted with anxiety lest the weather should prove cloudy or rainy. Imagine his gratitude when the evening sky appeared undimmed by a cloud! When the time arrived, and the natives beheld a dark shadow stealing over the moon, they began to tremble. Their fears increased with the progress of the eclipse; and when they saw mysterious darkness covering the whole face of nature, there were no bounds to their terror. Seizing upon whatever provisions they could procure, they hurried to the ships, uttering cries and lamentations. They threw themselves at the feet of Columbus, implored him to intercede with his God to avert the threatened calamities, and assured him that thenceforth they would bring him whatever he required. Columbus told them that he would retire and commune with the deity. Shutting himself up in his cabin, he remained there during the increase of the eclipse, the forests and shores all the while resounding with the howlings and supplications of the savages. When the eclipse was about to diminish, he came forth and informed the natives that he had interceded for them with his God, who, on condition of their fulfilling their promises, had deigned to pardon them; in sign of which he would withdraw the darkness from the moon.

When the Indians saw that planet restored presently to its brightness and rolling in all its beauty through the firmament, they overwhelmed the admiral with thanks for his intercession, and repaired to their homes, joyful at having escaped such great disasters. They now regarded Columbus with awe and reverence, as a man in the peculiar favor and confidence of the Deity, since he knew upon earth what was passing in the heavens. They hastened to propitiate him with gifts, supplies again arrived daily at the harbor, and from that time forward there was no want of provisions.

A LESSON WORTH LEARNING.

The possibility of a great change being introduced by very slight beginnings may be illustrated by a tale which Lockman tells of a vizier, who, having offended his master, was condemned to perpetual captivity in a lofty tower. At night his wife came to weep below his window. “Cease your grief,” said the sage: “go home for the present, and return hither when you have procured a live black beetle, together with a little ghee, [or buffalo’s butter,] three clews,—one of the finest silk, another of stout pack-thread, and another of whip-cord; finally, a stout coil of rope.” When she again came to the foot of the tower, provided according to her husband’s demands, he directed her to touch the head of the insect with a little of the ghee, to tie one end of the silk thread around him, and to place him on the wall of the tower. Attracted by the smell of the butter, which he conceived to be in store somewhere above him, the beetle continued to ascend till he reached the top, and thus put the vizier in possession of the end of the silk thread, who drew up the pack-thread by means of the silk, the small cord by means of the pack-thread, and, by means of the cord, a stout rope capable of sustaining his own weight,—and so at last escaped from the place of his duress.

CHOOSING A KING.

The Tyrians having been much weakened by long wars with the Persians, their slaves rose in a body, slew their masters and their children, took possession of their property, and married their wives. The slaves, having thus obtained everything, consulted about the choice of a king, and agreed that he who should first discern the sun rise should be king. One of them, being more merciful than the rest, had in the general massacre spared his master, Straton, and his son, whom he hid in a cave; and to his old master he now resorted for advice as to this competition.

Straton advised his slave that when others looked to the east he should look toward the west. Accordingly, when the rebel tribe had all assembled in the fields, and every man’s eyes were fixed upon the east, Straton’s slave, turning his back upon the rest, looked only westward. He was scoffed at by every one for his absurdity, but immediately he espied the sunbeams upon the high towers and chimneys in the city, and, announcing the discovery, claimed the crown as his reward.

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT.