The twelve great constellations of the zodiacal belt which forms the Earth's orbit and the Sun's shining pathway around the celestial universe have been considered as mere imaginary figures, or emblems, invented by an early, primitive people to distinguish the monthly progress of the Sun and mark out, in a convenient manner, the twelve great divisions, or spaces, of the solar year. To this end, IT IS THOUGHT, the various star groups, termed constellations, were fancifully imagined to represent the various physical aspects of the month, under, or into, which they were consecrated by the Sun's passage during the annual journey, so that, in some sense, the, twelve signs or constellations were symbolical, not only of the seasons, but also of the labors of the year.
That such a system seems perfectly natural to the learned mythologist, and that granting the ancients so much is a very great concession toward this CHILDISH KNOWLEDGE is, of course, quite excusable when we are constantly told, or reminded, that actual science--that is to say, "EXACT SCIENCE," does not date backward more than a couple of centuries at most.
Even the modern astrologer, much as be descants upon the influence of the twelve signs, has but little, if any, real knowledge of this matter above and beyond the purely physical symbolism above mentioned. And perhaps it is as well that such a benighted condition prevails, and that the Divine, heavenly goddess is unsought and comparatively unknown.
The celestial Urania, at least, in such isolation remains pure and undefiled. She is free from the desecrating influence of polluted minds.
Such, in brief outline, is the general conception of mankind regarding the shining constellations that bedeck, like fiery jewels, their Maker's crown, and illumine with their celestial splendor the wondrous canopy of our midnight skies.
Is there no more than a symbol of rural work in the bright radiance of the starry Andromeda, the harbinger of gentle spring? Nothing, think you, but the fruit harvest and the vintage is in the fiery, flushing luster of Antares and the ominous Scorpion? Are men so spiritually blind that they can perceive nothing but the symbol of maturing vegetation and the long summer's day in the glorious splendor of Castor and his starry mate and brother, Pollux? It would, indeed, seem so, so dead is the heart and callous the spiritual understanding of our own benighted day. To the initiate of Urania's mysteries, however, these dead, symbolic pictures become endowed with life; these emblems of rural labor or rustic art transform themselves from the hard, chrysolitic shell and expand into the fully developed spiritual flowers of spiritual