there came not only the sun-glows to which we have several times made reference, but also abundant rains. And in “Knowledge” of 6th June, Mr. Neison, Director of the Government Observatory at Natal, is quoted as saying that in his colony they had the sun-glows so early as February, 1883, but that they became most vivid on the 28th and 29th of August, and from 31st August to 5th September, after which they vanished for four months,—whereas in Transvaal, 250 miles distant, they were first noticed on the 2nd September, and continued very vivid till January of this year. Evidently, we have not either heard or said the last word on this subject yet, and we must retain that philosophic attitude so absolutely necessary in many matters—suspension of the judgment. During the next few months the problem may become easier of solution. Some one of our members may then take it up again and give us the benefit of the later lights. I trust we may then be the better able to see our way, for the long consideration you have kindly allowed me to give to the matter to-night. I must indeed apologize for the length of my paper, “Dum brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio.” Brevity may be bought at the expense of perspicacity. And much as I have said on this subject, there is far more that can be said. It is astonishing with how many departments of natural science and natural philosophy the enquiry is connected. But, as says a great thinker, “From every natural fact invisible relations radiate, the apprehension of which imparts a measure of delight; and there is a store of pleasure of this kind ever at hand for those who have the capacity to turn natural appearances to account.” I must apologize also for treating this subject so much in the Dr. Dryasdust fashion. So beautiful, and weird, and heavenly a display as the recent evening glows should have been treated poetically,—but man is like some long-winged sea-birds, which rise from sand-hills with great difficulty. And after all, the imagination had to be kept well in hand, for, as it is, have we not been led by our enquiry into the volcano' crater, and down to the depths of the sea, and up to the blue ether, and to the furthest parts of the earth.

Art. XLIX.—Red Sunsets. By Wm. Ringwood [Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 1st May, 1884.] Plate XIX The equatorial diameter of the earth is 7,901 miles, and the circumference is 24,825 miles, and, as she revolves once on her axis in 24 hours, a place on the equator moves through 1,034 miles per hour, but at any depth