At 10 o’clock P.M. on the 21st of June, the longest day of the northern hemisphere, the aspect of the sky is that shown in Chart II, accompanying this chapter. The same chart will answer for 11 P.M. on the 5th or 6th of June; 9 P.M. on the 7th of July, and 8 P.M. on the 22d or 23d of July. In fact, for any of the hours mentioned the date may be shifted several days forward or backward without seriously affecting the comparison of the chart with the sky, and the same may be said of each of the other circular charts. The stars simply rise about four minutes earlier each evening, and four minutes of time correspond to one degree of space measured on the face of the sky. So the whole sky shifts about one degree westward every twenty-four hours. For the observation of the heavens at the epoch of the Summer Solstice, observers who are situated at least as far south as 40° north latitude have an advantage over those whose place on the earth is much farther north, because in the more northern regions sunset occurs later, and in England and Northern Europe the day, at this time, may exceed sixteen hours in length, while twilight is perceptible throughout the night. This interferes with the brilliancy of the stars. [Illustration: CHART II--THE SUMMER EVENING SKY] At no other season do the heavenly bodies seem so intimately associated with the earth as in summer. All nature is now attuned, and the stars glow softly in the tepid atmosphere, stirred by faint breezes, like veritable flowers of the sky. The firmament becomes a vast garden lit with beautiful lamps, which seem to have been placed there to dimly illuminate nocturnal wanderers in the transparent gloom beneath. Their beauty is as refreshing as the cooling breath of night itself. A mystic influence steals from them over the earth. “If a man would be alone,” says Emerson, “let him look at the stars.” Yet he cannot be alone with them; they are too friendly; they speak too plainly a universal language, which, though he cannot translate it, he _feels_ in every fibre. There is nothing more absolutely common to all men than the influence of the stars. No one ever gazed up at them without feeling a change come over his spirit. Truly, “they separate between him and what he touches.” They free him from the bondage of time and space. There is no trouble that they cannot assuage. And there is no time like the summer for becoming intimate with them. One who has been touched by the magic of their love could lie all the night long on a bed of pine-needles and fill his soul with their beauty. The march of red Antares and his glittering retinue across the meridian while the earth sleeps in solstitial calm--who can describe that pageant?