phases is William Black. In the third chapter of his Princess of Thule is the following sentence: "Was Sheila about to sing in this clear strange twilight while they sat there and watched the yellow moon come up behind the Southern hills?" The spectacle of the moon rising in the south is one which Heaven has denied to all except the characters in Black's novels. It is not surprising that Sheila "was about to sing": she must have felt something of the exultation which swells the bosom of that favored child of Destiny, the small boy who has crept in under the canvas when the menagerie people are painting the tiger.
It may be borne in mind that Black's south-rising moon came up during the twilight — that is to say, shortly after sunset. It would be, therefore, nearly "half-full" to the eye of the terrestrial observer; but referring to a later hour of the same evening Black says: "There into the beautiful dome rose the golden crescent of the moon, warm in color as though it still retained the last rays of the sunset." Concerning the last clause of this astonishing sentence it may be asked from what source Black supposed the moon's light to be derived, or if he regarded her as self-luminous. The truth probably is that he had
