A FORWARD MARCH. II 



his followers, more than two thousand years ago. 

 She is sufficiently near to us now to be seen by 

 daylight, shining softly out of the dome. It is not 

 easy for us to realize that this speck of silver, this 

 pearly dot, set in the blue, is a vast globe of rock 

 and gravel, dirt and soil, swinging in "its eternal 

 circle" around the central fire. Are there star- 

 gazers in the streets of its cities looking out to-day 

 through twenty millions of miles of space, to see 

 our shining disk ? 



If the axillary inclination of Venus nearly cor- 

 responds with that of earth, as is the opinion of 

 some of our learned modern astronomers, it is 

 reasonable to suppose that her northern and 

 southern regions at least are habitable, and agree 

 in climate and condition with those of our torrid 

 and temperate zones. Plants, then, must be grow- 

 ing there ! Birds, perchance, are trooping up the 

 curvature to their nesting-places, northward, and 

 insects are zigzagging and buzzing in the light of 

 a larger sun. How we burn with extravagant 

 curiosity in our desire to view her landscapes, to 

 compare the families, genera and species of her 

 flora and fauna with those of our native revolver ! 



But in the ethereal ocean the splendid world 

 sails on, till, like a ship in its course, it comes 

 again in daylight eye-hailing distance, and then 

 recedes as before, without giving answer to our 

 vaulting questions, or throwing out one longed-for 



