met with a difficulty. To know a thing, we must look at it. How can we
look at the sun? It is so very bright that our eyes are dazzled in
gazing upon it. We have to turn away, or they would be put out,--the
sight, I mean. It is true, we might use smoked glass, but that is apt to
come off on the nose. How, then, if we can not look at it, can we find
out about it? The noonday would seem to be the better hour, when it is
the sunniest; but, besides injuring the eyes, it is painful to the neck
to look up for a long time. It is easy to say that our examination of
this heavenly body should take place at sunrise, when we could look at
it more on a level, without having to endanger the spine. But how many
people are up at sunrise? Those who get up early do it because they are
compelled to, and have something else to do than look at the sun.

The milkman goes forth to carry the daily milk, the ice-man to leave
the daily ice. But either of these would be afraid of exposing their
vehicles to the heating orb of day,--the milkman afraid of turning the
milk, the ice-man timorous of melting his ice--and they probably avoid
those directions where they shall meet the sun's rays. The student, who
might inform us, has been burning the midnight oil. The student is not
in the mood to consider the early sun.

There remains to us the evening, also,--the leisure hour of the day.
But, alas! our houses are not built with an adaptation to this subject.
They are seldom made to look toward the sunset. A careful inquiry and
close observation, such as have been called for in preparation of this
paper, have developed the fact that not a single house in this town
faces the sunset! There may be windows looking that way, but in such a
case there is always a barn between. I can testify to this from personal
observations, because, with my brothers, we have walked through the
several streets of this town with note-books, carefully noting every