long columns of a clear white light, shooting up from the horizon to the eastward, almost to the zenith, and gradually spreading over the whole southern part of the sky. These columns were sometimes bent sideways at their upper extremities; and though in most respects similar to the northern lights of our hemisphere, yet differed from them in being always of a whiteish colour; whereas ours assume various tints, especially those of a fiery and purple hue. The sky was generally clear when they appeared, and the air sharp and cold, the thermometer standing at the freezing point."

The most complete series of observations on the Aurora that has yet been published, is given by Dr Rich ardson, in "Franklin's Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea." We extract the following: "I have never heard any sound that could be unequivocally considered as originating in the Aurora; but the uniform testimony of the natives, both Crees, Copper Indians, and Esquimaux, and of all the older residents in the country, induce me to believe that its motions are sometimes audible. These circumstances are, however, rare, as will appear when I state, that I have now had an opportunity of observing that meteor for upwards of two hundred different nights." The Aurora, of which the following is a description, must have been exceed ingly beautiful: "When the Aurora had exhibited itself in this form for a considerable space of time, the whole mass of light suddenly appear ed in motion, and sweeping round on each side, was gathered together to the southward of the zenith. Im mediately after, a large portion of it was seen in the S. E., assuming an exact resemblance to a curtain suspended in a circular form in the air, and hanging perpendicular to the earth's surface. The lower edge of this curtain was very luminous, and had a waving motion; and the illusion was farther heightened by the momentary appearance of perpendicular dark lines, or breaks in the light, in rapid succession round the circle, exactly as the waving of a curtain would cause the dark shades of its folds to move along it. This beautiful curtain of light was about

40 degrees high, of a pale yellowish colour, and sent out, on one side, a process which approached the S. E. by E. point of the horizon, and on the other was connected with a long regular arch, terminated in the N. W. horizon, similarly constructed, and having the same waving motion with the curtain itself. All this time the sky was perfectly clear, except in the southern quarter, which, to the height of 4 or 5 degrees, was occupied by dark clouds, apparently intermediate between stratus and cirrostratus." Several theories have been proposed in order to explain the nature of this meteoric appearance; but none of those which have yet been published are satisfactory. The following account and explanation of the theory, which were communica ted to me by Dr T. S. Traill of Liverpool, are conclusive;-the theory agrees entirely with the phenomena, and leaves, I think, little more to be desired on this subject: "The extent of the Aurora in the Orkneys I never accurately ascertained, but I have occasionally observed it to cover more than two-thirds of the canopy of heaven. I once saw an Aurora of a uniform blue colour slowly rolling from the northern quarter of a cloudless sky, and extending even beyond the zenith; occasionally its volume expanded so as to involve almost the whole heavens, presenting the magnificent spectacle of a vast dome of lambent flame with a circular aperture in the centre.

"The most usual periods for the occurrence of the Aurora in Orkney are about the end of autumn, and the end of winter; but it occasionally occurs at every season of the year, though it is, in general, most vivid in the absence of moonlight. Some philosophers have mentioned, that they have heard a peculiar kind of noise, like the rushing of air, rustling of silk, during the appearance of the Aurora Borealis ; this is a circumstance, the truth of which I am able to confirm by repeated observations. I am quite certain that I have heard this rustling noise, which was once particularly distinct as I stood alone, at midnight, on the top of a lofty tower, when every thing was still around. The real height at which this meteor occurs has never

yet been ascertained. In 1716, 1726, and 1729, the Aurora Borealis was observed in every part of Europe; but we do not know that it was the very same Aurora which was observed at distant places, else we could ascertain its elevation in the sky. At any rate, the Aurora is a meteor which must be very high in the atmosphere, from the distance at which we know one has been visible. It cannot, how ever, be higher than the upper limit of the atmosphere, which does not exceed 70 or 80 miles; and it is extremely probable that no Aurora has ever been observed at an altitude greater than 45 miles; and, therefore, it follows, that the immense heights given to this meteor, from observations made by Mairan, and others, were obtained from false data. Mairan (at page 74 Traité Physique Historique de l'Aurore Boreale) has determined the height of an Aurora to be 200 leagues, which is evident ly false; but we are to consider that he had a particular object in view he had formed the strange notion that the Aurora, as well as the zodiacal lights, are both produced by the solar atmosphere. The supposition has, however, been completely refuted by Laplace: for this illustrious philosopher has proved, that the sun's atmosphere cannot extend to the orbit of Mars, much less then can it extend itself as far as the orbit of the earth; and, consequently, it can never be the cause of the Aurora. It is evident that the Aurora cannot be above the earth's atmosphere, because, as it apparently remains stationary for several hours, it must partake of the common motion both of the earth and the atmosphere. This meteor increases in brilliancy as we advance towards the north; and, for nearly half the year, it supplies the absence of the sun to the shivering tenant of the frigid zone.' For a long time the northern lights were supposed to be peculiar to the northern hemisphere, but the voy ages of discovery in the southern ocean, and the increasing intercourse between the northern and southern hemispheres, have shown that they prevail also towards the south pole. The Aurora Australis has been described as paler than the Aurora Bore alis; but, in all probability, this arises

from comparing the Aurora Borealis as it appears in our high northern latitudes, with the appearance of the Aurora Australis as it appears in much lower southern latitudes. Some philosophers have ascribed the Aurora to the inflammation of hydrogen gas in the upper regions of the atmosphere. There is considerable reason to suppose, that while various processes are going on at the surface of our earth, and particularly during the action of evaporation, that some water is decomposed. If this process really goes on, it must be allowed that the hydrogen thus liberated, being much lighter than air, would rise to the top of the atmosphere, and, after rolling down the inclined planes formed by its upper surface, would accumulate near the poles. If the electric fluid pass through this hydrogen, it may set it on fire, and thus produce the Aurora. This hypothesis is, perhaps, the most plausible that has yet been advanced, to account for this extraordinary meteor. The successive ignition of the portions of hydrogen, as they come in contact with the oxygen of the air, are supposed to occasion the corruscations of the Aurora; and the small quantity of oxygen present in such rare air accounts for the duration of the combustion. Granting that this hypothesis is correct, there should be a vacuum formed towards the pole by the condensation of the gases, and an Aurora in our hemisphere ought generally to be followed by a southerly wind. Now, Mr Wynne, in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London, informs us, that in twenty-three cases which he observed, an Aurora was, without exception, followed by a southerly wind. When the Aurora was very brilliant, the south wind came on with considerable force within twenty-four hours; when the Aurora was faint, the wind was longer in coming on, was weaker also, but continued longer. In the Orkney and Shetland Isles, where the Aurora is usually much more brilliant than I recollect ever to have seen it in any other part of Britain, it is usually reckoned to be the forerunner of a gale; and I have observed, after a vivid appearance there, in several instances, that it was soon

followed by a strong gale from the south, or from the south south-west. According to the account given in 'Franklin's Journey to the Shores of the Polar Seas,' it is evident that, at the time of an Aurora, electro-magnetism is produced; for, at the time of the appearance of an Aurora, the motion of the magnetic needle was disturbed; and this circumstance is quite agreeable to the above hypothesis. Franklin says, the appearance of the Aurora, and the disturb ance it occasioned on the motion of the needle at Fort Enterprise, were so frequent, that the mean monthly variation must have been deduced from but few observations if they had been rejected.' And again, 'the circumstance of the mean variation being least at midnight there, and at Moose-Deer Island, was evi

dently caused by the frequent disturbance in the motion of the needle which the Aurora occasioned; for on those days when it was not visible, the mean diurnal variation followed the course Mr Hood had observed it to do at Cumberland House, being most easterly at the time of the first observation in the morning, and least between three and four in the afternoon. The change in the diurnal variation in these parts of North America seems to be governed by the same law as in England, as the decrease in easterly variation between the morning and afternoon is, in fact, a motion of the needle to the westward."

For much more interesting infor mation on the same subject, we refer to the volume above quoted, and from which these are extracts.

THERE'S Wassail in Lord Walter's hall, And smoking beeves and red-wine flowing ;

Merry are the hearts of his kinsmen all, And the dames' dark eyes are gladly glowing;

While, lower ranged, his vassal train

Devoutly quaff the foaming ale, Or with the blade, ne'er drawn in vain, The sirloin's mighty mass assail :

The harp is sounding proudly too,

While chaunts the minstrel old and hoary,

From Norman spears how Saxons flew
On Hastings' day of deathless glory.

And yet by friends though girded round,Though lovely lips and eyes are near him,Though lands, herds, flocks, and gold a bound,

And kinsmen love and foemen fear him,

Lord Walter mute and sadly sits,

As were nor guest nor kinsman near; And as his eye is rais'd by fits,

It wears the hurried glance of fear. Pale lips, and cyes deep sunken, shew Passion hath wrought the work of time; But is it pure and blameless woe,

Or sleepless, dire remorse for crime? While thus he mused, casting a shade Of sorrow upon every face, It chanced a distant bugle bray'd

A note that peal'd through all the place.

Full many a cheek grew pale beneath

That bugle's wild and thrilling sound, For it seem'd the blast of one whom death

Long since in foreign land had found.

But Walter started with a shriek"He comes! he comes! the grave hath giv'n

Him forth his guilty prey to seek,

To mark how poorly guilt hath
thriv'n."

Out flew bright blades from many a thigh,
The coming horror to destroy,-
While ladies crept their lovers nigh,-
Jesu! 'tis but a tiny boy!

His locks were of as dark a dye

As ever rob'd the raven's wing;

And his eyes shone out like the stars on high,

When forth in gloaming hour they spring.

He tripp'd to where Lord Walter stood, And in a soft and witching tone, Which every angry thought subdued,

Thus the dark-eyed youth went on :"It was a Knight, an English Knight, Bound was he for Paynim fight; And with an hundred in his train, With Norman ROBERT cross'd the main. His brother, young Lord Henry, too, With him his maiden faulcheon drew, And many a feat of fame they shar'd, Many a deed of danger dar'd, Till, at the length, this elder Knight Captive was made in unequal fight..

The Paynim felt his prisoner's worth, For he knew his wealth, and he knew his birth,

And mightier ransom for him was set Than e'er had been fix'd for Christian yet.

The Knight to young Lord Henry sent;
Told him of all his dreariment,
And swore, by all a brother's love,
And by the blessed Saints above,
Prisoner if he would be in his stead,
Home he would hie as soon as freed,
Gather his gold, and quickly bring
For him the ransom'd offering.
Large was the love young Henry bore
To him who thus so deeply swore,
So he enter'd him the Paynim's thrall,
The fettering steel on his limbs let fall,
And the elder brother was free as the
light.

Even though that lot himself had known,
And left through Henry's love alone;
His cold and avaricious heart
Durst not with the ransom part;
Yea, dearer than a brother's life,
That brother who in mortal strife,
His shield before him oft had thrown,
And made the coming wound his own;—
He who for him was even content
From light and freedom to be pent,
Held he, this cruel, man-sworn lord,
His fertile fields, his golden hoard."

""Tis false! 'tis false !" Lord Walter cried;

"My latest field I'd gladly sold Ere he by foemen's hands had died!

I wrong'd him, true, but not for gold; His lovelier looks, his smoother tongue, His graceful form and gentler heart,

Knight ?"

Answer none Lord Walter made,

But his cheek grew flush'd—his visage fell;

And Chief to Chieftain whispering said, That he had known the Knight too well.

"For many a weary night and day
Young Henry in his durance lay,
Striving to cheer, as best he might,
His self-devoted prison'd plight:
"Twere false to say that hope him cheer'd,
He hop'd not-for he never fear'd;
As firm his faith on Walter's love
As was his trust in Heaven above,➡
As fearless as the infant press'd
And fondled on its mother's breast.
And when the sun had left his eye,
While ruddy radiance flush'd the sky,
He thought of his western home, where
yet

The God of Day had hardly set.

And nightly, when the evening star Shone through his grate, he thought how far

His brother's bark was on the sca,
That came to save and set him free!
He sung, and sorrow dash'd aside,
Partly from a warrior's pride,

But more, lest, when he should return,
His brother's heart too much should

mourn,

If thraldom's woe should leave a trace
Too deeply furrow'd on his face!
His faith was false, his cares were vain,
That brother never came again!
Yet safe and soon his home he won,
For pitying Heaven impell'd him on,
Fair breeze gave to his bark, and speed
More then seem'd mortal to his steed.

"In vain, in vain; he heeded not His plighted troth, his brother's lot,

With passion that might not depart.
I trembled lest he should return
To rob ine of my other life,
Yet only meant that he should mourn

Prison'd till she were sure my wife. How have I sped? she pined, she died; And when the fatal moment came, Hell! the last sound that ere she sigh'd,

Her dying word was Henry's name."

"Long Henry nothing fear'd, I said;
But faith at length began to fade,
The trysted time was come and gone,
Yet ransom, rescue there was none;
And in his keeper's scowling eye
Revenge and hate he 'gan to spy;
Yet still like him who o'er a deep
Hanging, sees snakes that writhe and
creep,

Waiting his fall-and, struggling, clings,
Mad with the dread of their cursed stings;
So wildly still to hope he clung,
When doubt the demon on him sprung;
But when again had roll'd away
Another year, and still he lay
Forgotten in his dungeon lair,
Hope sunk and settled in despair!
And when he eyed the setting sun
"Twas with the bitter thoughts of one
Who, lingering, parts upon the shore
With the friend whom he fears he shall
meet no more!

Yet still he sung, though every tone
Of glee, that cheer'd him once, was gone ;
'Twas now a sad heart-breaking strain
Of blasted hopes, of bosom pain,
And deepest still of all a moan
For the land he ne'er should see again."

Lord Walter shuddering, hid his eyes,

While lovely damsels round him wept; But frowns on the Chieftains' brows arise, And their hands to their weapons

crept.