to insure the
public safety. He called the crew together, admonished them of their
sin, the suffering they were bringing on themselves, and the necessity
of getting back to their families. He exhorted them to throw the fish
overboard, as the only measure to secure their safety. In the goodness
of his heart, he even offered to pay the value of the jettison as soon
as the vessel reached Drontheim.

But the descendants of the Vikings were stupid and unenlightened
men--"educatione sua et professione homines crassissimi"--and would not
swallow the medicine so generously offered. They claimed that, as they
had bought the fish from the Russians, their proceedings were quite
lawful. As for being paid to throw the fish overboard, they must have
spot cash in advance or they would not do it.

After further fruitless conferences, Father Hell determined to escape
the danger by transferring his party to the other vessel. They had not
more than got away from the wicked crew than Heaven began to smile on
their act--"factum comprobare Deus ipse videtur"--the clouds cleared
away, the storm ceased to rage, and they made their voyage to
Copenhagen under sunny skies. I regret to say that the narrative is
silent as to the measure of storm subsequently awarded to the homines
crassissimi of the forsaken vessel.

For more than a century Father Hell had been a well-known figure in
astronomical history. His celebrity was not, however, of such a kind as
the Royal Astronomer of Austria that he was ought to enjoy. A not
unimportant element in his fame was a suspicion of his being a black
sheep in the astronomical flock. He got under this cloud through
engaging in a trying and worthy enterprise. On June 3, 1769, an event
occurred which had for generations been anticipated with the greatest
interest by the whole astronomical world. This was a transit of Venus
over the disk of the sun. Our readers doubtless know that at that time
such a transit afforded the most accurate method known of determining
the distance of the earth from the sun. To attain this object, parties
were sent to the most widely separated parts of the globe, not only
over wide stretches of longitude, but as near as possible to the two
poles of the earth. One of the most favorable and important regions of
observation was Lapland, and the King of Denmark, to whom that country
then belonged, interested himself in getting a party sent thither.
After a careful survey of the field he sel