The European vernal equinox took place at the first point of Aries. But by this precession, or more properly recession, or going backward of the stars, the Equinox takes place when the sun is in Taurus the Bull, two thousand years after it was in the Ram. I see. The stars not only get earlier four minutes a-day to accommodate the earth in its annual motion, but make a change to accommodate the swinging of its pole. Can you tell me, James, how much the stars slip back in a year? Let me calculate it. There are 360 degrees in a circle, and sixty times as many minutes; that is, 21,600. As it is 25,000 years in the circle, the stars would not shift one minute of distance, and the sun’s apparent size in the heavens is thirty minutes, or half-a-degree. By this Precession a star comes to the same spot about twenty minutes later every year. It is, as it were, sliding back. In Europe, James, one effect has been to bring what we call the Polar star within one degree of the north pole of the heavens; whereas, a few thousand years ago it was twelve degrees off it. The bright star of the Lyre Constellation will some day be the North Polar star. Ah, but in 25,000 years the present Polar star will be in its old place. The end of the little Bear’s tail seems now fastened on the north pole; but it must be a sort of greasy pole for the stars to slip off it as soon as they get near it.” FIXED STARS NOT FIXED. It had been a sultry day. The sun rose with a fiery glance, and the sea blushed with a deep red as his hot beams glided over the heaving surface. The clouds hung heavily and gloomy in one part of the horizon, sending back to the sun a glowing, angry look in exchange for his fierce gaze. It was not long before the massive clouds came rolling up, as they were pressed forward by the western breeze, which was rushing forward as hastily as the rest. The sun tried to frighten the advancing vapours, but could not. They came onward till they covered the sky, and drove the bright rays from the gilding of the waters. The wind, rejoicing in its power to drive the clouds, now flew upon the ocean and buffeted the waves. Affrighted at its blows, they fled hither and thither in their distress, and mingled their roar of terror with the shrill shrieks and cries of their invisible foe. It was a storm. The captain, who had been attentively watching the signs, and losing his breakfast, saw what was coming, and prepared for it. The sails were taken in, and the ship made snug and safe. The storm came with a wild burst all at once, and reeled the vessel almost upon its side. But the officer was there, the helmsman was awake to his duty, and the lounging barque kept on her course in spite of her erratic movements.