of the camp, and the desolate plains of Champagne, he turned his eyes in dreamy mood towards the heavens. He thought he saw something unusual, and on taking up his opera-glass, he found it was a comet with a well-marked tail, the full extent of which could not be detected, on account of the strong twilight in the northern horizon. It has been seen by many since as a brilliant object to the naked eye. The stronger twilight, in the higher latitudes of Scotland, has as yet deprived us of this interesting spectacle. The shape is much like that of the comet of 1858, but its lustre is much greater than that of the latter, when it first became visible to the naked eye. Leverrier apologises for the nodding of his staff of observers, by pleading the badness of the weather. The comet was allowed to approach, and gather brilliancy behind the murky atmosphere, and when, at last, the clouds broke up, the unaided eye, on account of the brilliancy of the object, had as good a chance as the most powerful telescope.
It is difficult to understand the rationale on which science distributes her honours. If a man, innocent of all scientific knowledge, only happen to catch the first glimpse of a comet, or pick up some new fossil, he receives the award of immortality, by having his name associated with the discovery. The comet or the fossil is called after him for all future time. When, however, the discovery is of real merit, such as that of a planet, all attempts to affix to them the names of
