It is now of about the seventh magnitude, and is therefore invisible to the naked eye. A period of seventy years has been assigned to this star, but it is doubtful whether it has any regular period.

There is, however, a large number of what are called "long-period» variables, of which the most illustrious is Mira, the "Wonderful » star in the constellation Cetus. These stars seem to make some effort at regularity, though they still exhibit eccentricities, and cannot be counted on always to appear at their maximum of brilliancy on schedule time, nor always on that occasion to be of the expected brightness. They have been assiduously studied with the spectroscope, and it has been found that without exception their increase of brilliancy is attended by the appearance of bright lines in their spectra. The increase of their light must be due to the outbreak of gaseous matter at a temperature of incandescence, though how or why is a question which still awaits an answer. Among these glowing gases, as in the case of the bright-line stars, are helium and hydrogen. The average period of Mira is 331 days; its range of variability is from the ninth or tenth magnitude to the third and occasionally to the second.

Temporary or "new" stars are probably phenomena of the same order as variable stars -are due to the same causes, whatever these causes may prove to be. Indeed, in several cases, a supposed new star has turned out, upon investigation, to be an already known though inconspicuous star, which has suddenly and unaccountably burst into unwonted splendor.

The first object of this kind of which there is any reliable record is a star which appeared in 1572 in the constellation Cassiopeia, and which is known as Tycho Brahe's star, from the assiduity with which it was observed by that astronomer. When first seen this star was so brilliant as to be comparable only with Venus when at her brightest. It diminished steadily in splendor, and at the end of eighteen months it was no longer visible.

Another remarkable object of this class appeared in 1604 in Ophiuchus, and was closely observed by Kepler. This star appears to have been nearly as bright as Tycho's, and it deported itself in the same way.

The next brilliant "nova ”—to pass unnoticed three or four of less interest-was that which suddenly appeared in the Northern Crown in May, 1866. When first seen it was of the second magnitude. It diminished in brightness so rapidly that twelve days after its discovery it was below the eighth magnitude; that is, it was away below the limit of the naked eye. Subsequently it brightened up a little, but it soon diminished again. Soon after its discovery it was found that the star was not really a new one, but had already been catalogued as a star of between the ninth and tenth magnitudes, and this is its status now.

This star is interesting as the first nova to be observed with the spectroscope. Sir William Huggins and Dr. Miller succeeded in getting an observation of it while it was still fairly brilliant, and they found that its spectrum was crossed by several remarkably bright lines, two of which they attributed to hydrogen. In November, 1876, a star of the third magnitude was discovered in the constellation Cygnus. It faded so rapidly that one week after its discovery it was of only the fifth magnitude. Its spectrum showed bright lines similar to those seen in the nova in the Crown. One of the bright lines was thought to be identical with the "unknown" coronal line; the others were identified by M. Cornu, at the Paris Observatory, with some of the lines of hydrogen, sodium, and magnesium. This nova ended its career by turning into a nebula of small angular diameter, and as such it may still be seen.

In August, 1885, a star of about the seventh magnitude broke out in the very core of the great nebula in Andromeda, and remained visible until the following February. This star also was examined with the spectroscope, with the result that, though it was a very difficult object because of its faintness, several bright lines were distinctly made out in its spectrum.

A nova discovered in Auriga in February, 1892, is particularly notable from the circumstance that an examination of photographic plates taken at the Harvard College Observatory brought out the curious fact that the star had been shining within the limits of naked-eye visibility for nearly two months before its discovery. When first seen it was estimated to be of the fifth magnitude. The photographic record showed that it had then been diminishing in brightness for nearly a month, and that when at its brightest it was of nearly the fourth magnitude. After its discovery this star increased slightly in brightness and then began to fade quite rapidly. On April 1 it had fallen to the fifteenth magnitude and afterwards to about the sixteenth. In August, 1892, it had brightened up again, and was rediscovered as a star of the ninth magnitude. Then it began again to wane, and it finally settled down into an apparently permanent condition as a star of about the eleventh magnitude. This star, like all of the preceding, showed bright lines in its spectrum.

Several temporary stars have been detected in recent years from an examination of the photographs taken at the Harvard College Observatory for the Draper Memorial. One of these, discovered in 1893 by Mrs. Fleming, who has charge of the examination of the photographs, was in the constellation Norma, in the southern hemisphere. When at its brightest it seems to have been of about the seventh magnitude. Its spectrum was similar to that of the new star in Auriga, when it first appeared. GEO. SENECA JONES.

(To be Continued.)

N

APOLEON FIRST was at the height of his power and the splendor of his reign when, on March 20, 1811, his son, Napoleon François Charles Joseph, King of Rome, was born. Cannon-shot and peals of bells announced the coming into the world of the little prince. There were no bounds to the demonstrations of joy by the people over whom he was prospective ruler. No city loves a holiday more than Paris, and on this occasion a holiday began which was to last for several days, the means with which to make merry being furnished by the happy father and sovereign.

The tenderest care was given to the child, who, from his birth, was not robust. Napoleon, who would brook no opposition to his wishes from either his family or the state over which he reigned, bent his strong will to the attractions of the winsome infant and found relaxation from care in spending hours with him in the nursery.

Next to his birth, the christening of François was the great event in his life. It occurred in Notre Dame on June 11, 1811. The doors of the old historic church, in which kings had been crowned and their marriages celebrated, swung open to admit the royal party and the gay people who attended the function. The streets of the capital were crowded with dense masses anxious to get if it were only a peep at the pageant.

There was but little solemnity in the splendid ceremony which took place before the altar; there was no element of real consecration to God and his service by either royal sponsor or royal attendant. The august Madame Lætitia Bonaparte stood as godmother to the child, the godfather being Archduke Ferdinand, Duke of Würzburg. Other royal participants were the Kings of Westphalia and of Spain, the Prince Borghese, the Prince Eugene, viceroy of Italy, the Duke of Parma, and the Prince arch-chancellor of the Empire. The rite of baptism was administered by the baby's granduncle, Cardinal Fesch. Now that an heir was born to the throne, the Emperor hoped that the different political factions in France would unify, and the Empire be perpetuated to a Napoleonic dynasty. Alas, his hopes were not to be realized. "My destiny demands it," he had said to the heart-broken Josephine when he told her that he must be divorced from her. That destiny ended, not as he had pictured it, with Continental Europe looking

to him as counsellor and arbiter in state affairs, but in banishment from France to a rock-bound isle, where his every word and action were watched, and that before the son of Maria Louise was three years old. The crown of France, which Napoleon had been at so much pains to secure, was never to be worn by the King of Rome.

Napoleon hated the Austrians and frequently declared that not as a scion of the House of Habsburg would he have his son brought up; his wishes were to be thwarted here, for, as soon as he was deposed, the Empress returned to her place in the royal family of the court of Austria, and her son was educated in accordance with its strict régime.

It was on May 2, 1814, that he was taken out of France; he never returned to it. His title, the one his father had given him, was suppressed, the name Napoleon was proscribed, and every object and fact that might reveal his paternity to him was carefully kept from the knowledge of the child.

In 1817 the right of succession to his mother's dominion in Parma was taken from him. His grandfather, Francis First, by an imperial decree of July 22, 1818, conferred upon him the title Duke of Reichstadt, fixed his rank at the Austrian Court, decided what his armorial bearings were to be, to what honors he was to be entitled, and what position he was to occupy in the royal family.

In that family he was loved by both relatives and servitors. As a child, and when he developed into youth, he was obedient to his instructors and to the discipline of his grandfather's household. He had an amiable disposition, not inherited from his royal sire. though it was said that the soul of Napoleon looked out of his son's deep brilliant eyes whenever he became interested in conversation, so like were they to those of his father.

ans.

For years he was kept in ignorance of the circumstances preceding and attending his birth; he knew nought of his father. One day he learned that he was the son of the man whose very name was execrated by the AustriHe wakened as if from a long dream. Its spell was broken, and the spirit of Napoleon asserted itself in him. He sought for and read every book that contained anything relating to the first Emperor or to the Bonaparte family. At the home of the English ambassador in Vienna he met Marmont, one of his father's

most trusted generals, who for three months gave him a course of instruction on the campaigns in which he had served under Napoleon.

His indignation knew no bounds when he heard of the lonely, heart-broken exile, living and finally dying away from home and friends. He openly declared that, no matter what the consequence might be, henceforth he would be known by the name which belonged to him; that he would not submit to Austrian dictation in the matter.

Through natural inclination and by careful training, he showed great fondness for arms; but his tall, delicate body could not endure the arduous exercises to which, in his new-found personality, he now attempted to school himself. When appointed colonel of the Gustavus Vasa Regiment of Hungarian infantry, he assumed active command and took part in its every ceremony, no matter how fatiguing it was, no matter how inclement was the weather, nor how ill he felt, nor how strongly his physicians remonstrated with him. He studied the art of war with a purpose.

He hoped against hope that by the power of his sword he might redeem the honor of Napoleon I, that he might avenge the wrongs which had been heaped upon him.

His ambition was not to be realized. His spirit was stronger than his body. Consumption had marked him for its victim, and as it made rapid inroads upon his vitality, he knew that his days were numbered, that he must die without showing to the world that he was the worthy son of him before whom kings trembled

Months passed.

One

and crowns toppled. midsummer day he was nearing the end; his strength was almost gone; the fatal moment had come. His mother was sitting at his bedside. Fixing his eyes upon her, he whispered: "Mother, mother, I am dying," and fell asleep.

Thus died, at the age of twenty-one, of laryngeal phthisis, on July 22, 1832, the son of Napoleon Bonaparte. He entered into rest in the very room in the royal palace of Vienna where his father had once dictated terms of peace to Austria. Six days after his death

a post-mortem examination was made, with the following report:

"The body completely emaciated; the chest, in proportion to the body, long and narrow, the sternum flattened, the neck wasted.»

The youth was buried with princely honors in the vaults of the Austrian imperial family at Schönbrunn. A Latin inscription is engraved thereon, which translated reads thus:

TO THE ETERNAL MEMORY OF JOSEPH CHARLES FRANCIS, DUKE OF

REICHSTADT;

SON OF NAPOLEON, EMPEROR OF THE

FRENCH,

AND OF MARIA LOUISA, ARCH-DUCHES
OF AUSTRIA.

BORN AT PARIS, THE 20TH OF MARCH, 1811.
DIED AT SCHÖNBRUNN, 22d JULY, 1832.

The prince had written an epitaph for himself, but it was not allowed to be placed upon his tomb. It read:

"Here lies the son of the Great Napoleon!
He was born King of Rome."

O

N MARCH 16, 1856, in Paris a baby boy was born over whose head honors and promise of future power appeared to clasp hands. He was Napoleon Eugene Louis, the Prince Imperial, son of Louis Napoleon, from whose grandmother, Josephine Napoleon, the "Man of Destiny" had been divorced. The beautiful city surpassed all preceding efforts in gaiety when on Saturday, June 14, the young prince was brought to Notre Dame for baptism.

From records made by eyewitnesses we learn that the grand old church was fitted up magnificently. On each side of the great nave seats were erected; its lofty columns were hung with draperies of rich crimson velvet and gold decorations. Around the altar was a dais upon which sat the officers of state, the senate, the diplomatic corps, and the legislative body. Ladies in holiday dress occupied the galleries.

A few minutes past six o'clock the beating of drums announced the approach of the Emperor and Empress, and every eye of the great multitude thronging the streets strained to see them. Princes and princesses had arrived and

stood in line with the clergy to receive their majesties. Headed by the archbishop of Paris and his vicar-generals, before whom a great cross was borne aloft, and followed by the military officers of the imperial household, the grand cortége crossed the threshold of the church. "The honors" of the young prince-as they were called - followed. These were the wax taper of the Countess Montebello, the crimson cloth of the Baroness Maleret, and the salt-cellar of the Marquess Tourmanbourg. "Sponsorial honors » came next. The ladies bearing these were dressed in blue, over which was draped some dainty white material. They walked down the long aisle two and two. Preceding the infant Prince walked the Grand Duchess of Baden and Prince Oscar of Sweden. But little of the baby for whom all this parade was made could be seen. Clad in a long ermine mantle, he rested in the arms of his gouvernante, who walked to the altar with an assistant on either side of her, the nurse, a native of Burgundy, who was dressed in the peculiar costume of her province, following. Marshals Bosquet and Canrobert

came after the nurse. Under a beautiful canopy which was held above them walked their majesties; the Emperor, whom Parisian etiquette forbade to offer an arm to his royal spouse in church, being slightly in advance of Eugenie. In front of the altar two handsome crimson chairs were placed for their use. High above the altar and platform was a crimson canopy dotted with golden bees. The effect was dazzling.

The Empress was resplendent in a dress of pale blue which was covered with rare and costly lace. Diamonds sparkled all over her person five millions of dollars they were valued at. The Emperor wore white kneebreeches and long silk stockings, over which was the uniform of a general officer. He was brilliant with decorations of different orders.

Blue being considered the proper color to be worn at the baptism of a boy, all the ladies present were arrayed in blue gowns. The cardinal-legate was seated on a throne. When every one was in his place, he rose and began the "Veni Creator.» An orchestra took up the recital, and the music, it is said, was beautiful beyond description. When it ceased, the master of ceremonies saluted the altar and then his sovereigns. After questioning the sponsors, the legate took his place at the font, where as godfather he represented the pope. The Duchess of Baden stood as godmother. The act of christening was soon over. Then his governess passed the baby to his proud and happy mother, who handed him to his royal father. Louis raised him aloft so that the people might have a glimpse of him. Loud and oft-repeated were the shouts of "Vive le Prince Imperial!”

The royal parents withdrew from the church, leaving the baby to the care of its escort. There were after-ceremonies at which they needed not to be present. They therefore went to a banquet in the Hôtel de Ville, which in magnificence had perhaps never been excelled. The day following the christening was given up to fêtes. The Emperor distributed vast sums of money among the populace. In the evening fireworks, in rare and beautiful designs, illuminated every part of the city; the theatres admitted everyone free; hundreds of balloons were sent up, from which fine fruits and dainty confectionery fell in showers upon the people below. The Sabbath was forgotten.

The young prince spent a happy childhood. He was greatly loved by his family, by his attendants, and apparently by the court. His father had him educated with the greatest care. He looked forward to the time when, as his successor, he would be at the head of one of the most powerful nations in Europe. Louis, however, overestimated the security of his position, for, instead of becoming more popular, he was each year losing favor with his people. They could not forget what he had done to gain his throne and crown; too well they re

membered that to retain it he had shed some of the best blood in France, that he had perjured himself, that he had appointed a censorship of the press. The magnificence of his court, which rivalled that of Louis XIV., enriched the shopkeepers, but the people of wealth, influence, and literary attainments did not favor him. Bourbonites and Orleanists were working against him secretly, if not openly. Nor were the advocates of a republic quiet. All that kept them from taking up arms against the Emperor was that they dreaded the horrors attending a revolution, and France knew well what a revolution meant. A war-cloud rose in Prussia, and in 1870 it hung over France. The Franco-Prussian war was inevitable, and Louis Napoleon was hurried into it by the party ruling at the French court and by advisers who saw no help for his dynasty but in his success in the conflict. The Prince Imperial accompanied his father to the seat of war and was with him during the terrible bombardment of Saarbrücken. It is said that he bore himself throughout as the son of a king. The battle of Sedan saw Louis a prisoner at its close and his reign as Emperor ended.

The Empress fled to England and settled at Chiselhurst, in Farnborough, where she has since chiefly resided. Her son soon followed her, and after the Emperor's release from confinement in the castle of Wilhelmshohe near Cassel, he too joined them. The young prince had a good mind, and, like his cousin the King of Rome, was of a lovely disposition; he resembled him in another respect, he had a delicate constitution. At Woolwich he applied himself to the study of science and to military tactics.

After the death of his father, on January 9, 1873, his ambitious mother constantly impressed upon his mind the fact that he was the rightful heir to the French throne, and that he must do all in his power to ingratiate himself in the favor of his countrymen. The military spirit was strong within him. It is told of him that he would look with pride upon the sword worn by the First Emperor as he went from Arcola to Waterloo, and say, "I must earn a better title to this than that which my name alone can give me."

When the French Republic was established he applied to President McMahon for permission to join the French troops in Tonquin. This was refused him. During the war in Zululand in 1879 he entered the British army and went to South Africa. He and his mother looked upon his going to actual war as the beginning of a military career that might win for him a name, and perhaps restore to him his beloved France. Little thought either that it was only to meet death that he went. With an escort of six white men and a like number of Basutos, he was detailed soon after his arrival to survey the country surrounding the British encampment. One day, just after the

noontide meal, as the party were resting outside their donga, Zulus were seen stealthily approaching. The prince was tardy in mounting his horse. His guardsmen, thinking only of their own security, fled, leaving him to his fate. His horse became unmanageable and he attempted flight on foot. He ran into a deserted donga, where his barbarous assailants followed, hurling assagais at him. No one save those who murdered him know whether or not he attempted to defend himself. Next day he was found dead in the donga, with nearly a score of assagai wounds upon his body. The heart sickens at the story that one of his beautiful eyes was put out. He was literally stabbed to death. Thus ended, on June 1, 1879, the life of the son of Louis Napoleon. The world was filled with pity when the news passed by wire and cable that he was dead. England honored the Prince Imperial in life, she also honored him in his death and burial. A British ship bore his body to his grief-stricken mother, five English

princes of the blood royal, with the Prince of Wales at their head, were his pall-bearers, the Crown Prince of Sweden assisting. His body rests with that of his father in a costly sarcophagus at Farnborough.

The hopes of the Bonaparte's died with the Prince Imperial. The sword of the first Napoleon, which was taken from his body by his slayers, was afterwards restored to the English by Cetawayo. Memories of its distinguished owners cluster around it; but the imperial power which it once represented lies sheathed with it in its scabbard. It is a souvenir of the destructive wars which Napoleon waged and of the blood that he shed, and is a reminder of the insecurity and evanescence of a worldly and selfish ambition. No record has ever been made of characters which from birth were endowed with greater loveliness of mind and disposition than were those of the two uncrowned princes of the House of Napoleon, and an intense interest invests everything connected with either.

ALICE STOver.

N MR. JAMES TYSON, the millionaire, whose death was reported recently from Sydney, Australia, says the "London Times," has lost a remarkable personality and a citizen whose career was so typical in some of its leading characteristics as almost to epitomize in itself the history of the pastoral industry in Australia. Mr. Tyson was, as a lad, and remained to the end of his life, a bushman pure and simple. Though he accumulated great wealth he recognized none of the ordinary civilized uses of money, but maintained throughout his career the frugal habits of the beginning, working no less continuously at seventy than he had worked at seventeen.

Mr. Tyson was born in Australia in 1822, of English parentage, and lived all his life in the colony, at times undertaking great journeys and bravely surmounting many misfortunes. He first began to earn money as a mower with his scythe and in tending cattle in the inland pastoral regions of the island continent. He saved enough after some years to buy a cattle station of his own, and when gold was discovered at the Bendigo diggings, he found profitable work in supplying the miners with beef from his grazing lands. He kept himself informed of all stock being driven towards the field, and while he sold at Bendigo he bought from the owners for ready money on the road. They, glad enough to take a fair profit and save risk and travel, parted with their stock at a comparatively low price. He extended his operations first to the buying of cattle not only on the road but as far north as Queensland, and then to the buying of stations as well as stock in all parts of Australia. On his stations

he was active in sinking wells, putting up fences, and introducing new stock. He came thus to be one of the richest, and finally the largest, landowner in the seven colonies. At the time of his death his freehold estate comprised no less than half a million acres, and his leaseholds extended over many thousands of square miles.

Having practically no use for money and spending none upon his personal requirements, his wealth accumulated to enormous proportions; a few years before his death he was accredited with the possession of £5,000,000. His money did not interest him. He used to say of it, "I shall just leave it behind me when I go. I shall have done with it then, and it will not concern me afterwards." . . "But," he would add, with a characteristic semi-exultant snap of the fingers, "the money is nothing. It was the little game that was the fun!» Being asked once, "What was the little game?" he replied with an energy of concentration peculiar to him, "Fighting the desert! That has been my work! I have been fighting the desert all my life, and I have won! I have put water where was no water, and beef where was no beef. I have put fences where there were no fences, and roads where there were no roads. Nothing can undo what I have done, and millions will be happier for it after I am long dead and forgotten." Asked towards the end of his life whether he had ever been happy, he replied with a certain brave simplicity: "Sufficiently so; I am persuaded that attainment is nothing; the pleasure is in the pursuit, and I have been pursuing all my life. Yes, I consider that I have been happier than most men.»