The weather, for many days preceding, had been mild, with alternate sunshine, clouds, and showers. The wind had been generally in the west and south-west quarters; though on the 18th and 19th it was in the north-west, and on the 20th in the north-east. The barometer, at three o’clock in the afternoon, had stood at from 30° 40′ to 30° 20′, to which latter height it had descended on the 20th; and, from that day to the 25th, it had remained, at 29° 90′ and 29° 75′. The thermometer, at the same hour, between the 14th and the 20th, had ranged between 65° 6′ and 59° 2′; and it stood, on the 25th, at 59° 6′, with the wind in the south-west. The sky, toward the zenith, on the evening of that day, was [p386] partially clear, and partially covered with shifting clouds. On the north, and on the west and east of north, heavy and stationary clouds blackened the whole horizon, to an elevation of more than five degrees; and the southern hemisphere was dark with dark clouds from the horizon to the zenith.

I. By some, the Aurora was seen from the time when the sun was set; but the first appearance in the heavens, which attracted the attention of the present writer, whose situation at the moment shut out from him the horizon upon all sides but the west, was that of a certain breadth of red or copper-coloured light, or of light of a colour nearly resembling that reflected by an ordinary conflagration of buildings, pointing upward from the west. The colour, indeed, was dissimilar from that which is usual upon the occurrence of a fire on a cloudy night; yet, in the absence of any other immediate explanation, he should not have hesitated so to understand it, except for the figure within which it was circumscribed, and which, instead of being diffusive, and less and less conspicuous toward its extremities, or rounded in its outline, like masses of ruddy smoke, had the peculiarities of an equal breadth, rectilinear sides, a square top, and sharp outlines. Its height was continually increasing; but not even that phenomenon, nor even the curve to the eastward, across the heavens, and which it presently began to add to its figure, were appearances absolutely to dissipate the illusion of the existence of a fire; and it was scarcely, therefore, till this breadth of colour, throwing itself entirely over the heavens, and descending, at its projected extremity, toward the east, formed an arch, of which, perhaps, the elevation was seventy degrees, (which was not the work of many minutes, the motion, at the same time, being visible, but of moderate rapidity,) that its real character of a natural phenomenon distinctly impressed itself upon the mind of the present writer, its observer. While this, however, was proceeding, the road which he was pursuing had brought him more into view of the north-western and northern horizon; and, then, the light in the north, and to the west of north, which, from behind the clouds that lined the horizon, seemed like the light of a rising moon, or of the [p387] breaking day, together with the vertical projection of rays of light, beneath and above the arch, removed every doubt as to the cause of the appearance, by demonstrating its connexion with an Aurora Borealis.

It was now about a quarter past eleven o’clock. The sky, beneath the lower or inner edge of the arch, was clear and star-light, and, through the contrast created by the ruddy colour placed against it, appeared of a lively blue. The upper edge of the arch, in the meantime, was relieved only by the dark gray of the clouds, which, with more or less continuity, overhung the upper part of the heavens. But these latter were now dispersing; the cloudless zenith, which presently afterwards disclosed itself, was now progressively and swiftly preparing; and, as the clouds moved and fled, the outlines of the arch lost their sharpness, the colour changed, from that of fire or of copper, to something more or less of purple or of the rose; it spread itself in the vapour, and with the vapour vanished.

II. But this was only the curtain of the stage, behind the folds of which the true scene had its existence. This latter, still concealed, to a certain and uniform height, by a parapet, as it were, of dark and unbroken clouds, consisted, first, in the ground of white light, already described as resembling that of a sky in the midst of which clouds shut out the disk of the moon, or rather that in which the rising sun is just about to appear; and, secondly, in a range of columns, or fountains, or jets of light, more coloured than the ground, which, rising from behind the ridge or parapet of clouds, and from and in the midst of the white light, formed, together, not the figure which would have been produced by their uniform convergence toward the zenith, but one which bore some resemblance to that assumed by the sticks of a fan, or still more to the appearance of stalks in a flower-basket, or in a sheaf of corn. For, in this manner, the column, which, in general terms, may be called the central one, and which arose in the due north, was vertical, and therefore projected toward the zenith; while those which extended from it upon either side, that is, toward the west or toward the east, gradually inclined more and more [p388] toward the horizon on their respective sides; and, as to the outer columns on the east, inclined, not in rectilinear figures, but in curves more or less decided. In these columns or coruscations several particulars were to be remarked.

1. That, within the space of from one hour to two, the whole group appeared to traverse the horizon together, from the west of north to the east of north, as if upon one movable base, or as if the source of their appearance became gradually exhausted to the west of north, and grew gradually into activity upon the east of north; alternatives of explanation, however, which might materially affect the theory of their production. During the whole change, in the meantime, the north preserved its splendour, appearing uniformly as the focus of the fire, or as the pivot of the machine, or as the well from which all else was supplied. The change consisted in the appearance of columns, of more or less magnitude, strength, and brightness, more or less advanced from the north toward the west, or from the north toward the east; but the north, during all this variation, suffered no other change than this, that whereas, in the beginning of the evening, the greater portion of columns rose to its west, while, in the latter part of the night, the greater portion arose to its east. But, besides this general configuration, and this united motion of the meteor, there was to be observed, in the several columns themselves, both the variations of colour which distinguished one from another, and the irregular and independent movement of each, always in the direction of its length or altitude, and situate in the interior, as it were, of its body; and also that peculiarity of form which distinguishes these coruscations from all other luminous appearances.

2. The colours of the columns, in that part of their height which is nearest their base, and where, as a ground, they had only the white light of the horizon, by which, and by their motion, and it should, perhaps, be added, their vividness, they were distinguished, is a point upon which the writer speaks with some hesitation, and with respect to the more close observation of which he could like to enjoy a second opportunity of beholding the phenomenon. The variety and richness, and sometimes the terrible grandeur, of the colours [p389] exhibited in the Aurora Borealis, is the constant theme of spectators and naturalists; and, upon the late occasion, an observer, apparently of more regularly scientific habits of pursuit than himself[120], has particularly insisted upon a column, of a violet colour, rising west of north, and the place of which he thinks corresponding with that of the magnetic pole; a coincidence from which, as it may seem, he would believe a confirmation of the magnetic theory of the production of the Aurora to be obtained. In setting down the present description, the writer tasks himself to the most faithful description of what he actually saw, and suppression of all desire to support or condemn a theory, of which his mind is capable; and by those rules, therefore, the whole statement will be guided. His description already differs from that of some of his fellow-witnesses, as will be expressly considered below; but he confesses that while, in point of persuasion, he much inclines to the idea, that all the light displayed by the Aurora is in itself white, and only tinctured to the eye of the spectator by the atmospherical medium through which it is seen; and while, with respect to all those deeper colours, whether crimson or purple, or blood-colour, which appal the superstitious, and are described by the picturesque narrator as exhibiting the terrible in matters of vision, he judges it supposable that the whole machinery consists in the same interposition of vapour, near the horizon, which so often gives to the sun and moon themselves the appearance of being coloured like blood: while, therefore, he still adheres to his opinion, that the colours ascribed to the Aurora are wholly extrinsic; and, to borrow the words of a scientific writer, “dependent upon the medium through which they are seen;” he is obliged to acknowledge, that it did appear to him, that the several columns, in truth, were yet variously coloured, of pale, but bright and pleasing colours, from a pale yellow to a pale pink and a pale violet, and this in the direction of their height or length,—a phenomenon which wholly excludes, as to those columns and their colours, the influence of an interposing medium, the effect of which would be perceived horizontally, and across the whole range of columns, or part of the range, and not [p390] vertically nor obliquely, according to the direction of each column, and within the limits of its sides. He confesses, also, that he did take notice of the pale, but bright violet-coloured column, distinguished also by its breadth and height, and situated to the west of north; but which column, he is surely right in adding, ultimately moved, with those next to it, toward the north. He distinctly and pointedly observed, at the same time, that the columns which stood due north were always white, and that the colours of the other columns appeared to strengthen in proportion as they were distant from the due north, either west or east; and he came to a fixed conclusion, while the phenomenon was under his eye, that, to his judgment at least, the strength of the fire, so to say, was in that point of the horizon which lay due north; and that there was a diminished brightness, with a proportionable increase of colour, to the right and left.

3. As to the separate movements of the columns, these, in the first place, were quick, and forced upon the eye, while the movement which gradually deployed or advanced the right wing of the celestial arm, and gradually contracted or withdrew the left, was slow, and perceived only by its results; and, in the second place, while these latter were parallel to the horizon, the former were either vertical, or in the oblique or curved direction of the bodies of the columns. But this motion consisted either in vibration, or in irregular but alternate projections and contractions; and the motion of each column, as has been said, was independent on that of others. Rarely, two adjoining columns were in motion at the same time. Almost always the moving column or columns were seen to start from the midst of others, which, for the time, were quiescent, but which had had their turn before, and would presently have it again. What eminently struck the writer, however, was the internal motion of that to which he cannot allow himself to give another name than that of the apparent luminous material of the columns. It seemed to him as if the volume of each column or coruscation was itself composed of parallel lines of luminous matter, arranged in the direction of the column, and every one of which was separately the subject of movements similar to those of the entire [p391] column, or entire bundle of lines; or as if the whole column were like the stalk of a plant, and filled with upright and luminous fibres, or like a skein of thread, drawn vertically or obliquely, and of which each particular thread should have particular motion in the direction of the whole; or (what he thought the comparison which proclaimed the very nature of the material of the columns) like fountains, or jets of water in the sun, in which every particular particle should be moving in the general direction of the jet, and yet each moving and shining for itself.

4. And this apparent nature of the substance of the columns or coruscations allies itself to what finally regards them; namely, their form. In this description, they have hitherto been spoken of by the name of columns or pillars; and the similitude, which that name suggests, is justified by the general figure of all the lower parts of their bodies, which, unlike the figure of rays of light on the one hand, and unlike that of flames of fire on the other, is a tall or lengthened object, of small comparative diameter or breadth, and of which the sides consist in right and nearly parallel lines. But, by the English, these columns, pillars, or coruscations, were anciently called so many burning spears; and they have also received the names of streamers and pencills[121], which two latter, in the history of appurtenants of war, signify long and narrow, and pointed banners or flags. Their similitude to flags is excusably fancied from their quick, capricious, and irregular motions, but their likening to “spears,” is that which may claim to be thought the most felicitous, as to the true conception of their form, as it is also that, the idea of which contributes to render the phenomenon the most fearful in the [p392] survey of ignorance and superstition. But the SPEAR-SHAPE is descriptive, because the coruscations, unlike rays of light, and unlike flames of fire, have neither the obtuse figure of a pyramid, nor the acute one of an obelisk, upright or reversed; but, after rising, through almost their whole height or length, of an equal or nearly equal diameter, terminate in a point which is formed, not of right lines, like the point of a dagger, but of curved lines, so as to form the rounded point of a spear, or that figure which is so familiar to botanists, as spoken of “spear-shaped” leaves. A ray of light, in whatever direction it is thrown, broadens, with right-lined sides, from the first point of its departure, to the furthest stretch of its projection; a flame of fire points uniformly upward, with the same regularity of form, excepting only as it is liable to undulation from the motion of the atmosphere; but, the columns, spears, streamers, or coruscations of the Aurora Borealis, have no form but that under review.