placid condition of my mind. I aroused myself from this, however, and became thoroughly myself when the sun went down on the evening of my hope, and left an atmosphere that was as perfect as I could wish for. The sky was calm and clear, with just enough moisture in the air to increase its transparency. The ordinary evening sounds appeared stilled. Neither nighthawk nor owl seemed abroad, and the usual rustling of leaves and swaying of tree-tops was suppressed by a calm that struck me as strange. The day had been moderately warm, and the sun-distilled odors of the firs and pines, condensed by the coolness of twilight, were filling the air with an agreeable perfume, as though Nature was burning incense in the celebration of some ancient rite, during which every living and breathing thing about seemed bowed in silent reverence. I had never known until now what assurance there was in the natural sounds which nightly fell upon my ears. In my mountain home no feeling of loneliness ever came over me before. I felt an especial longing now for the sound of a human voice, for a companion upon whom I might discharge myself of the suggestions and beliefs appertaining to the subject of my investigation and study. My mind was filled with conclusions touching the physical condition of Mars, which each new observation tended to corroborate. I had my theory to give of its rose-colored light. I had seen the clouds moving upon its surface, its polar snows, and its very atmosphere. I had no doubt whatever, now, that it was inhabited, and the anticipation of soon seeing it in its most favorable opposition with the Earth, was accompanied with a yearning that some human creature might share with me the rare spectacle.