It was not till about midnight that the zenith itself (which,

however, formed the southern boundary to this part of the display)

became the scene of a class of appearances, differing, indeed,

essentially, in their forms, from those in the horizon, but closely

connected, as it may be believed, with all the materials, and all the

movements, of these latter. The zenith, at that hour, was cloudless,

and resplendent with stars, and the air was freshened by a gentle

breeze from the south. Between the earth and the stars above, there

was no apparent intervening vapour, and nothing, therefore, save

that atmospherical fluid which eludes the sight. But, through that

medium, if such only it was, coruscations were now continually

shooting, of which the appearance was, that it overspread this

portion of the vault of heaven with an ever-shaken [p394] sheet

of thin, gauzy, white, or yellowish-white, and nebulous, or cloudy

matter. To the writer, this superior portion of the Aurora, though

not the most lustrous, and, therefore, not the most striking of the

whole, was yet by no means the least interesting and inviting to

attention; for, here, as its appeared to him, the _material_ and the

manner of operation of the meteor were brought nearer to the eye,

and exhibited with such a back-ground (the starry heavens) as gave a

transparent view of the same matter as that, which, (as he thought,)

seen vertically, and in the horizon, appeared comparatively, at

least, opaque. The transparent medium, however, above, through which,

even when shook or vibrating, and even when whitened with light,

the stars were always seen in more or less brightness, was now in

continual motion; or, meteoric light or matter was continually,

though irregularly, and as it were, playfully shot through it. The

illuminated substance (whether the atmospherical fluid, reflecting

the light of the meteor, or the luminous body of the meteor itself,

but probably the latter) was incessantly discovering itself in

different places; now here, now there, now bright, now dim; but far

less in a manner, or with an appearance, such to be compared with

lightning, than with such as resembled the changes of ripple upon the

bosom of a wide-spread water, when a variable breeze blows over it;

first in one part, and then in another; and now in one direction,

and the next moment in a second. Or, the canopy of heaven, at this

time, might be said to be composed of a lace or gauze bearing a

figured pattern, of which the fluttering motion continually changed

the places, or hid or re-displayed the figures represented; or the

picture, perhaps, will be more easily imagined, if conveyed in the

very appropriate language of an older hand, which, referring to

the appearances displayed in the zenith, remarks, “They break out

in places where none were seen before, skimming briskly along the

heavens; are suddenly extinguished, and leave behind a uniform dusky

track. This, again, is brilliantly illuminated in the same manner,

and as suddenly left a dull blank.” It should be understood, however,

that, at least as seen by the present writer, in this mixture of

white and blue, the blue was always the preponderating colour; or,

in other words, [p395] that, the field of the unoccupied zenith

always bore a large proportion to the space or spaces covered,

however momentarily, with light, or with the luminous substance.

For the rest, the particular mentioned in the passage which has now

been quoted, namely, that of the residue of a dusky track, after

the departure of the white light, did not, if it was there, attract

the attention of the present writer, upon the late occasion; but he

certainly, in many instances, remarked the return of the light to

the places in which it had been visible before; and this feature,

either with or without that of the continuance of a dusky track,

is possibly capable of adding some support to the general opinion

which he conceived at the moment, which all subsequent information

has still allowed him to retain, and of which he proposes to make

further use; namely, that the appearances in the zenith are only

extended exhibitions of the luminous phenomena in the horizon, or

their southern extremities, or the tops of columns projected from the

northward. He thought that, in the zenith, he saw the same material,

parcelled out, attenuated or diluted, spread thin, and, as it were,

shown with greater transparency, with that which, in thicker volume,

with more accumulated strength, intenser light, with more solid body,

and withal behind a denser mass of atmospherical vapour, arose, and

glowed, and sometimes gloomed, in the horizon. But, be this as it

may, it is, perhaps, this upper part of the exhibition, in which the

lights or streamers seem to interweave, or cross and recross each

other, to dance in and out of the area, and to indulge in motions

still more capricious or anomalous than is probably the real fact; it

is, perhaps, this upper part which has alternated, as before recalled

to view, the names and similitudes of spears, gleaming, glittering,

interposing and clashing as in battle, and of _merry dancers_, the

latter the gayer comparison of the dancing north.

* * * * *

IV. The Aurora continued to fix the attention of the writer till

between twelve and one o’clock of the morning of the 26th; and he

presumes that it continued visible till the superior light of the

rising day eclipsed its glory. The 26th was warm, but oppressed with

fog, through which the sun broke [p396] only at intervals; and,

between four and five o’clock in the evening, a small but steady

rain commenced, and continued, or rather increased in heaviness,

till after midnight. Between eleven and twelve, while it still

rained, the writer, on looking at the sky, which was covered with a

uniform mass of clouds, the writer observed, from point to point,

over the northern and southern hemispheres, a glow of ruddy light,

which he suspected, and still suspects, to have been produced by the

light of the continued Aurora, reflected by the vapour. He took the

opinion of a fellow-traveller, which coincided with his own; but it

has not come to his knowledge that any individual, himself and his

companion excepted, has formed a similar conjecture—nor, indeed,

is it impossible that it was no more than the light of the hidden

moon. The night of the 27th was star-light, though with fog near the

surface; and there was then no appearance of an Aurora. The night

of the 28th was remarkably clear, and there was still no return of

the Aurora. The morning of the 29th was warm, with continued and

heavy rain; but, after this, there succeeded a week or more of clear

and dry weather; and these united particulars close the history of

the phenomenon, as far as belong to the personal observation of the

writer. The direction of the winds, and the state of the barometer

and thermometer, were of the same general description, during many

days subsequent to the appearance of the Aurora on the 25th, as

that which had belonged to them from the 20th, and almost for many

days before, and of which the particulars have been stated above;

and these remarks may merit record, as connected with the question

of the ordinary duration of the Aurora, and of the weather by which

it may be thought produced, or which it may be thought to bring. In

many instances, it has been observed, even in its splendour, and

even in southern latitudes, for several nights in succession; and

an influence upon the weather has likewise been expected from its

appearance. Upon this occasion, there was no remarkable change in

the latter till the night of the fourteenth day after the Aurora

(October 10th), when there occurred a violent gale of wind from

the south-west, accompanied with loud thunder, and the most vivid

lightning; subsequently to which, as usual, [p397] the air, for a

few days, was felt to be cooler than before. It has been said, that a

gale of wind, from the south-west, is always to be looked for within

twenty-four hours after the Aurora.

* * * * *

V. The astronomical writer, already more than once mentioned,

speaking of the Aurora of the 25th of September, describes it as

“that mysterious phenomenon;” and Mr. Adams, the meteorological

correspondent of the publication referred to, records it as,

“perhaps, as conspicuous as any that has ever been seen in

England[122];” so that, assuming these impressions in both instances

to be well founded, neither the present state of science upon the one

hand, nor the specimen of the phenomenon upon the other, are such

as to discourage either of the objects of the remainder of these

pages; namely, the one to contribute, as fully as possible, to the

completion of a faithful account of the Aurora, as seen in London

upon the late occasion, by uniting, and by analysing the descriptions

that have caught already the eye of the writer; and the other, to

correct, and to enlarge if it should be practicable, the natural

history of this description of meteor, by the comparison of what has

hitherto been usually written upon the subject, either descriptively

or philosophically, as well with the results of the late actual

observations, as with the several facts or opinions more anciently

registered. According to some, the interval which had elapsed, since

an equal or a superior display of this phenomenon was witnessed in

London, is twenty-four years, and, according to others, thirty-six;

nor is the scanty list of examples scientifically recorded, at all

inconsistent, from the wide separation, as well as irregularity

of its dates, with such a view of the infrequency and uncertainty

of any considerable appearance in other southern latitudes. The

opportunity, therefore, now offered, ought not, perhaps, to be

neglected; and the writer is not wholly without the prospect, that,

upon a re-examination, both of opinions and facts, some safe and

inevitable conclusions may be elicited, both as to the history

and the theory of the meteor, hitherto, the one hastily received,

[p398] and the other negligently overlooked, or unwarrantably

contradicted. The paragraphs, then, which immediately follow, will

connect and review the accounts of the writer’s fellow-observer of

the 25th of September; while those which succeed will be devoted to

a brief enumeration of statements already recorded in books; though,

to a certain extent, both these paths will involve us in mixed

investigations, historical and theoretical.

1. “It first appeared,” says Mr. Adams, who dates from Edmonton, in

Middlesex, “about eight o’clock in the evening, as a strong white

light, much resembling the approach of sunrise; and so continued till

a short time after eleven, when a considerable number of dark clouds

collected toward the north and north-west, and several streaks of a

pale white light were seen proceeding from the clouds, and reaching

nearly to the zenith. But the most remarkable part of the phenomenon

was exhibited in a N.N.E. direction, where, at about 30° above the

horizon, was a small dense cloud, above which was a broad streak

curved, and about 10° in length, varying in colour from a deep copper

hue to a red.” “From this,” continues Mr. Adams, “the coruscations

were incessant, and remarkably bright, darting frequently to the

zenith, where they were frequently crossed by others equally bright

and numerous, proceeding from the west toward the east.”

2. The astronomical writer, who dates from Deptford, describes

the phenomenon as commencing at a quarter past eight o’clock, and

travelling, from west and north-west, to north-east; and the streaks,

or streamers, or, as he denominates them, the flashes, “converging

to the zenith,” and “coruscating with great velocity.” He also

particularises the peculiar appearance of “a streak or column of a

phosphorescent violet tinge;” and adds, “The _two_ red beams of

light, seen in the _easterly_ and _westerly_ direction [directions],

were diametrically opposite to each other, and ninety degrees distant

from the violet light (by far the most luminous, though comparatively

quiescent) which was to the west of north, _and therefore could not

be far from the magnetic meridian_, which would be crossed at right

angles by a line joining the places of the red beams. The southern

edges of these were accurately defined, not blending with the

adjacent azure, but most distinct from it, and [p399] perpendicular

to the horizon.” Finally, this gentleman speaks of the general

luminous aspect, as “much resembling the tail of a comet,” and says,

that Ursa Major, and other stars, were visible through its medium;

that three meteoric stars also appeared, during the phenomenon, in

the east and north-east; and that the entire horizon was obscured by

dark, heavy clouds, from three to five degrees in height[123].

3. Besides these observers, two or three others, if not many more,

less scientific, perhaps, but yet entitled to attention, have

communicated to different newspapers their accounts of the same

phenomena. “The metropolis,” says one of these, “was surprised on

Tuesday night by a brilliant display of Northern Lights, which but

very seldom stray so far south. The last which we beheld in London

were in the autumn of 1804, about the end of September, or beginning

of October; and the fancied prodigy filled all the superstitious

heads, at the time, with fearful prognostics, and loosened the

tongues of a hundred prophets. The spectacle, then, was truly

magnificent. On Tuesday night (the 25th) the northern parts of the

heavens displayed, about eleven o’clock, so ruddy a blaze, as to

appear like the reflection of a mighty conflagration. An hour later,

the red hue was gone; but the whole horizon, from the north to the

east, was lined with _a thin cloud_, from which the rays of light

rolled, or sudden rays flashed up, and as suddenly vanished, to

appear in a different part.” “At about half past eleven o’clock,”

says a second, “my attention was attracted to a singular appearance

of light and streakiness in the sky. I observed it for nearly two

hours. The sky, to the north, was obscured, for about fifteen degrees

above the horizon, by a _dense_ stratum of black clouds; from the

upper edge of this, the light became first apparent, extending from

nearly north-east to north-west, exceeding considerably in power

that arising from the moon just previous to its rising. From this

broad stratum of pale yellowish light shot beautiful _pencils_,

of a luminous, hazy appearance, up to the very zenith, changing

momentarily in length and intensity. During this period, the wind

blew gently from the south; and I frequently observed, that when it

freshened [p400] a little, the Aurora Borealis became more brilliant

in its appearance, sending beautiful coruscations of light, in rapid

succession, towards the zenith, and frequently passing that point ten

or fifteen degrees to the southward. I have been assured, by those

who are well acquainted with this beautiful phenomenon, that they

have not seen any appearance of it equal in brilliancy and beauty

to this, for upwards of six and thirty years.” “Last night,” says a

third, “we were favoured with that interesting phenomenon, the Aurora

Borealis, or Northern Twilight, which so often amuses and cheers

our neighbours in the north, but seldom, I believe, is seen in our

latitude. It was without those varied colours,” adds this writer,

“which cause it to be a grand spectacle in those regions.” “Not

far from the horizon,” he adds, “in the northern hemisphere, were

transparent bodies of light, _eclipsing_ the brightness of the stars,

which, however, were perceptible through it. From hence, beams of

light, varying in degrees of brightness and breadth, shot up towards

the zenith; here streamers of light flew from the east to the west,

and from west to east. The southern hemisphere was cloudless, the

stars shining with brilliancy. By the light of this phenomenon, I

could discern the time of night, which was between eleven and twelve,

as well as other objects, as they appear on a moon-light night,

when the moon is obscured by clouds.” “The sky in the north,” we

are told by the fourth, “appeared as if a light shone from behind

some dark masses of clouds. As I approached Hampstead, the silvery

light was gradually tinged with rosy spiral streams, like those

which sometimes precede the rising and follow the setting sun. These

spiral red streaks did not appear to move quickly; but they were

subsequently followed by the _merry dancers_, which fully maintained

the character bestowed upon them by our northern neighbours. After

passing through Hampstead, I crossed the heath, and came down what

is called North-end Hill, to Golder’s Green, Hendon. When you arrive

at the foot of the hill, you enter upon the open part of Golder’s

Green, where you have a clear and unobstructed view of the sky from

west to north. I never shall forget the grandeur of the scene which

awaited me there. A continuous border of dark cloud skirted the

horizon completely from west to north, whilst [p401] from behind it,

incessantly and rapidly shot up the most beautiful coruscations of

white light, which, being relieved by the dark border, added double

brilliancy to the ever-shifting scene.”

* * * * *

VI. But, after transcribing these respective accounts, it may be

permitted, for the purpose of uniting them with that submitted in the

preceding pages, to remark,

1. That the account by Mr, Adams, of the appearance worn by the

Aurora at an early hour in the evening, is, no doubt, entirely

correct; and that it is easy to understand, from this description of

that early appearance, why little observation was attracted to the

phenomenon till about eleven o’clock at night, the time assigned, as

well in this, as in all the other accounts, for the commencement of

the phenomenon.

2. That the “streaks of a pale white light,” which Mr. Adams

describes as proceeding, a short time after eleven, “_from_ the

clouds,” must be understood, as stated by the writer last quoted, as

proceeding “_from behind_ the clouds;” that, when the astronomical

writer at Deptford speaks of Ursa Major and other stars being seen

through the Aurora, it must be recollected, that, perhaps, this

remark should apply to the medium of the thin and shifting lights in

or near the zenith; and,

3. That it is with respect to the “broad streak, curved,” of Mr.

Adams; the “_two_ red beams of light,” of the astronomical observer

at Deptford; and the “arch” of the present description, that the

principal, if not only discordance obtains. Neither of the other

three writers appears to have seen any thing, whether of one “broad

streak, curved,” and “varying in colour from a deep copper hue to a

red,” or of “_two_ red beams,” as spoken by the writer at Deptford;

while, in each of the three accounts in which that part of the

phenomenon is actually referred to, the descriptions are materially

dissimilar:—

1. The writer at Edmonton mentions only a single streak, while the

writer at Deptford speaks of _two_.

2. The writer at Edmonton describes his single streak as curved,

while the writer at Deptford says nothing of curvature; and, in

describing the position of the beams as “perpendicular to the

horizon,” may seem to leave no curvature to be understood. [p402]

3. The writer at Edmonton seems to lift his “broad curved streak”

much above the horizon; for he first places a small dense cloud 30°

above the horizon, and, then, his broad streak above the cloud;

thus describing a curve of which the situation was near the zenith,

while the writer at Deptford is describing “two red beams,” standing

perpendicularly to the horizon.

4. The writer at Edmonton places his “broad streak, curved,” “in a

N.N.E. direction;” while the writer at Deptford records “two red

beams of light, seen in the easterly and westerly direction.” Lastly,

5. The writer at Edmonton seems to make coruscations, “incessant and

remarkably bright,” dart from his “broad streak, curved;” while the

writer at Deptford seems only anxious to place his “two red beams,”

as perpendicular pillars, standing on either side of the _magnetic

meridian_.

* * * * *

VII. And, from the whole of this, from the total silence of four

accounts, and from the extreme discordance of the other three, the

present writer presumes to draw the following inferences, including

that of the accuracy of his own original statement:

1. That the two perpendicular red beams of light, of the writer

at Deptford, should be joined with broad curved streaks of a deep

copper, or red hue, of the writer at Edmonton, to complete the _arch_

which has been spoken of in the foregoing pages.

2. That this _arch_, or curved streak, with its feet east and west,

sent forth no coruscations itself; but that the coruscations rose

beneath it, and passed above it.

3. That it was described upon the clouds only; was no part of

the Aurora; and, from its connexion with the clouds only, had

an evanescence which, on the one hand, was the cause of the

various descriptions, and, on the other, of no descriptions at

all. The present writer observed this part of the phenomenon from

its beginning to its ending. He saw it rise in the west, extend

itself from the north, and descend in the east; and he thinks it

reasonable to ascribe the variations concerning it, in the coincident

narratives, to the different points of time to which alone they

really refer. The writers at Edmonton [p403] and Deptford seem to

have had their attention fixed upon it at different epochs of its

progress; and all the four other writers, who have been cited, seem

to speak of a time subsequent to its disappearance. The present

writer does not recollect the small cloud below it, spoken of by

Mr. Adams; but he well remembers the clouds above it, and along and

near the northern edge of which it seems to be formed. He does not

recollect seeing its definite _southern_ outline contrasted with the

azure sky; but he well remembers seeing that outline contrasted with

the dark clouds above it, or to its southward; and also the contrast

of its definite, _northern_ outline, as contrasted with the azure sky

beneath.

* * * * *

VIII. It is necessary to take notice, also, of what is said above,

by the astronomical observer at Deptford, as to the “flashes

converging to the zenith,” and, further, of the omission, both by

this writer and by Mr. Adams, to speak of the curved beam, streamer,

or coruscation, to the east of north, as described above. The whole

veracity of the foregoing description depends upon the denial

of a uniform convergence of the streamers, pillars, columns, or

coruscations toward the zenith; nor was it, in all probability, the

intention of the writer at Deptford, to assert any such convergence,

but only to speak of those coruscations, or shifting lights, in the

zenith, which are described by Mr. Adams as crossing each other from

east to west. It is remarkable, at the same time, that neither the

one nor the other of these writers have mentioned that direct reverse

of convergence which marked the general figure and arrangement of

the streamers or columns of the Aurora, and which was so opposite to

what would have been given to it by the phenomenon of convergence.

Indeed, the violent curve of the extreme column to the N. E. or N.

N. E., shrouded, too, as that column was with a body of dense vapour

through which its light appeared of a deep and dull red colour, might

make the description of this itself answer to the “broad streak,

curved,” of Mr. Adams, if we were not certain, from other particulars

mentioned, that Mr. Adams really refers to the curve which formed

part of the _arch_. For the rest, no mention of the real directions

of the several columns having been made by any observer of the Aurora

of the 25th [p404] of September but himself, and especially none of

the outward curve of the easternmost column, it is satisfactory to

the writer to have found an account of an appearance similar to this

last, in an Aurora of which he will presently have occasion to speak.

* * * * *

The Quarterly Journal of Science, Literature and the Arts, July-December, 1827 · 第 39 / 51 段