Read Ebook: Graham's Magazine Vol. XL No. 4 April 1852 by Various Graham George R Editor

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The magnetic needle has frequently exhibited violent disturbance when the Aurora Borealis has appeared. This has led to the surmise that these brilliant lights are connected with the electric and magnetic properties of the earth, though in a manner which we cannot explain. It has been remarked that during the appearance of the aurora the electric fluid may often be readily collected from the air. If a current of electricity also be passed through an exhausted receiver, a very correct imitation of the auroral light will be produced, displaying the same variety of color and intensity, and the same undulating motions. It is highly probable, therefore, that the beautiful and fantastic meteoric display is connected with electricity; but great obscurity rests upon this department of meteorology.

Of all optical phenomena, the Aurora Borealis, or the northern day-break, is one of the most striking, especially in the regions where its full glory is revealed. The site of the appearance, in the north part of the heavens, and its close resemblance to the aspect of the sky before sunrise, have originated the name. The "Derwentwater Lights" was long the appellation common in the north of England, owing to their display on the night after the execution of the unfortunate earl of that name. The scene in the illustration is a picture of the auroral light, as observed from the neighborhood of Loch Leven--a scene in itself admirably calculated to exhibit the phenomenon; and to convey any adequate idea of its magical aspect, as seen in high latitudes, the painter's hand and the poet's art are needed. A native Russian, Lomonosov, thus refers to the spectacle:--

"Where are thy secret laws, O Nature, where? Thy torch-lights dazzle in the wintry zone; How dost thou light from ice thy torches there? There has thy son some sacred, secret throne? See in your frozen sea what glories have their birth; Thence night leads forth the day t' illuminate the earth.

"Come then, philosopher, whose privileged eye Reads Nature's hidden pages and decrees: Come now, and tell us whence, and where, and why, Earth's icy regions glow with lights like these, That fill our souls with awe; profound inquirer, say, For thou dost count the stars, and trace the planet's way.

"What fills with dazzling beams the illumined air? What wakes the flames that light the firmament? The lightning's flash: there is no thunder there, And earth and heaven with fiery sheets are blent; The winter's night now gleams with brighter, lovelier ray Than ever yet adorned the golden summer's day.

"Is there some vast, some hidden magazine, Where the gross darkness flames of fire supplies? Some phosphorous fabric, which the mountains screen, Whose clouds of light above those mountains rise? Where the winds rattle loud around the foaming sea, And lift the waves to heaven in thundering revelry?"

The appearances exhibited by the aurora are so various as to render it impossible to comprehend every particular in a description that must be necessarily brief and general. A cloud, or haze, is commonly seen in the northern region of the heavens, but often bearing toward the east or west, assuming the form of an arc, seldom attaining a greater altitude than 40?, but varying in extent from 5? to 100?. The upper edge of the cloud is luminous, sometimes brilliant and irregular. The lower part is frequently dark and thick, with the clear sky appearing between it and the horizon. Streams of light shoot up in columnar forms from the upper part of the cloud, now extending but a few degrees, then as far as the zenith, and even beyond it. Instances occur in which the whole hemisphere is covered with these coruscations; but the brilliancy is the greatest, and the light the strongest, in the north, near the main body of the meteor. The streamers have in general a tremulous motion, and when close together present the appearance of waves, or sheets of light, following each other in rapid succession. But no rule obtains with reference to these streaks, which have acquired the name of "the merry dancers," from their volatility, becoming more quick in their motions in stormy weather, as if sympathizing with the wildness of the blast. Such is the extraordinary aspect they present, that it is not surprising the rude Indians should gaze upon them as the spirits of their fathers roaming through the land of souls. They are variously white, pale red, or of a deep blood-color, and sometimes the appearance of the whole rainbow as to hue is presented. When several streamers emerging from different points unite at the zenith, a small and dense meteor is formed, which seems to burn with greater violence than the separate parts, and glows with a green, blue, or purple light. The display is over sometimes in a few minutes, or continues for hours, or through the whole night, and appears for several nights in succession. Captain Beechey remarked a sudden illumination to occur at one extremity of the auroral arch, the light passing along the belt with a tremulous hesitating movement toward the opposite end, exhibiting the colors of the rainbow; and as an illustration of this appearance, he refers to that presented by the rays of some molluscous animals in motion. Captain Parry notices the same effect as a common one with the aurora, and compares it, as far as its motion is concerned, to a person holding a long ribbon by one end, and giving it an undulatory movement through its whole length, though its general position remains the same. Captain Sabine likewise speaks of the arch being bent into convolutions, resembling those of a snake in motion. Both Parry, Franklin, and Beechey agree in the observation that no streamers were ever noticed shooting downward from the arch.

The preceding statement refers to aurora in high northern latitudes, where the full magnificence of the phenomenon is displayed. It forms a fine compensation for the long and dreary night to which these regions are subject, the gay and varying aspect of the heavens contrasting refreshingly with the repelling and monotonous appearance of the earth. We have already stated that the direction in which the aurora generally makes its first appearance, or the quarter in which the arch formed by this meteor is usually seen, is to the northward. But this does not hold good of very high latitudes, for by the expeditions which have wintered in the ice, it was almost always seen to the southward; while by Captain Beechey, in the Blossom, in Kotzerne Sound, 250 miles to the southward of the ice, it was always observed in a northern direction. It would appear, therefore, from this fact, that the margin of the region of packed ice is most favorable to the production of the meteor. The reports of the Greenland ships confirm this idea; for, according to their concurrent testimony, the meteoric display has a more brilliant aspect to vessels passing near the situation of the compact ice, than to others entered far within it. Instances, however, are not wanting, of the aurora appearing to the south of the zenith in comparatively low latitudes. Lieutenant Chappell, in his voyage to Hudson's Bay, speaks of its forming in the zenith, in a shape resembling that of an umbrella, pouring down streams of light from all parts of its periphery, which fell vertically over the hemisphere in every direction. As we retire from the Pole, the phenomenon becomes a rarer occurrence, and is less perfectly and distinctly developed. In September, 1828, it was observed in England as a vast arch of silvery light, extending over nearly the whole of the heavens, transient gleams of light separating from the main body of the luminosity; but in September, 1827, its hues were red and brilliant. Dr. Dalton has furnished the following account of an aurora, as observed by him on the 15th of October, 1792:--"Attention," he remarks, "was first excited by a remarkably red appearance of the clouds to the south, which afforded sufficient light to read by at 8 o'clock in the evening, though there was no moon nor light in the north. From half-past nine to ten there was a large, luminous, horizontal arch to the southward, and several faint concentric arches northward. It was particularly noticed that all the arches seemed exactly bisected by the plain of the magnetic meridian. At half-past ten o'clock streamers appeared, very low in the south-east, running to and fro from west to east. They increased in number, and began to approach the zenith apparently with an accelerated velocity, when all on a sudden the whole hemisphere was covered with them, and exhibited such an appearance as surpasses all description. The intensity of the light, the prodigious number and volatility of the beams, the grand intermixture of all the prismatic colors in their utmost splendor, variegating the glowing canopy with the most luxuriant and enchanting scenery, afforded an awful, but at the same time the most pleasing and sublime spectacle in nature. Every one gazed with astonishment, but the uncommon grandeur of the scene only lasted one minute. The variety of colors disappeared, and the beams lost their lateral motion, and were converted into the flashing radiations. The aurora continued for several hours." A copious deposition of dew--hard gales in the English channel--and a sudden thaw after great cold in northern regions, are circumstances which have been frequently noticed in connection with auroral displays.

The history of auroral phenomena goes back to the time of Aristotle, who undoubtedly refers to the exhibition in his work on meteors, describing it as occurring on calm nights, having a resemblance to flame mingled with smoke, or to a distant view of burning stubble, purple, bright red, and blood-color, being the predominant hues. Notices of it are likewise found in many of the classical writers; and the accounts which occur in the chronicles of the middle ages, of surprising lights in the air, converted by the imagination of the vulgar into swords gleaming and armies fighting, are allusions to the play of the northern lights. There is strong reason to believe, though the fact is perfectly inscrutable, that the aurora has been much more common in the European region of the northern zone, during the last century and a half, than in former periods. A very brilliant appearance took place on the 6th of March, 1716, which forms the subject of a paper by Halley, who remarks, that nothing of the kind had occurred in England for more than eighty years, nor of the same magnitude since 1574, or about 140 years previous, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when Cambden and Stow were eye-witnesses of it. The latter states in his Annals, that on November 14th, "were seen in the air strange impressions of fire and smoke to proceed forth from a black cloud in the north toward the south--that the next night the heavens from all parts did seem to burn marvelous ragingly, and over our heads the flames from the horizon round about rising did meet, and there double and roll one in another, as if it had been in a clear furnace." The year following, 1575, it was twice repeated in Holland, but not observed in England; and as a specimen of the tone of thought respecting the aurora, the description of Cornelius Gemma, a professor in the university of Louvain, may be given. Referring to the second instance of the year, and speaking in the language of the times, he remarks: "The form of the Chasma of the 28th of September following, immediately after sunset, was indeed less dreadful, but still more confused and various; for in it were seen a great many bright arches, out of which gradually issued spears, cities with towers and men in battle array; after that, there were excursions of rays every way, waves of clouds and battles mutually pursued and fled, and wheeling round in a surprising manner." This phenomenon was repeatedly observed in the last century in Sweden, as at present; but prior to the year 1716, the inhabitants of Upsal considered it as a great rarity. Nothing is more common now in Iceland than the northern lights, exhibited during the winter with imposing grandeur and brilliance; but Torfaeus, the historian of Denmark, an Icelander, who wrote in 1706, records his remembrance of the time when the meteor was an object of terror in his native island. It deserves remark, that its more frequent occurrence in the Atlantic regions has been accompanied by its diminution in the eastern parts of Asia, as Baron Von Wrangel was assured by the natives there, who added, that formerly it was brighter than at present, and frequently presented the vivid coloring of the rainbow.

The simplest form of the halo is that of a white concentric ring surrounding the sun or moon, a very common appearance in our climate in relation to the moon, occasioned by very thin vapor, or minute particles of ice and snow, diffused through the atmosphere deflecting the rays of light. Double rings are occasionally seen, displaying the brightest hues of the rainbow. The colored ring is produced by globules of visible vapor, the resulting halo exhibiting a character of density, and appearing contiguous to the luminous body, according as the atmosphere is surcharged with humidity. Hence a dense halo close to the moon is universally and justly regarded as an indication of coming rain. It has been stated as an approximation, that the globules which occasion the appearance of colored circles, vary from the 5000th to the 50,000th part of an inch in diameter. Though seldom apparent around the sun in our climate, yet it is only necessary to remove that glare of light which makes delicate colors appear white, to perceive segments of beautifully tinted halos on most days when light fleecy clouds are present. The illustration shows a nearly complete and slightly eliptical ring around the sun, the lower portion hidden by the horizon, which was distinctly observed during the past summer in the neighborhood of Ipswich, of an extremely pale pink and blue tint. When Humboldt was at Cumana, a large double halo around the moon fixed the attention of the inhabitants, who considered it as the presage of a violent earthquake. The hygrometer denoted great humidity, yet the vapors appeared so perfectly in solution, or rather so elastic and uniformly disseminated, that they did not alter the transparency of the atmosphere. The moon arose after a storm of rain behind the Castle of St. Antonio. As soon as she appeared on the horizon, two circles were distinguished, one large and whitish, 44? in diameter, the other smaller, displaying all the colors of the rainbow. The space between the two circles was of the deepest azure. At the altitude of 4? they disappeared, while the meteorological instruments indicated not the slightest change in the lower regions of the air. The phenomenon was chiefly remarkable for the great brilliancy of its colors, and for the circumstance that, according to the measures taken with Ramsden's sextant, the lunar disc was not exactly in the centre of the halos. Humboldt mentions likewise having seen at Mexico, in extremely fine weather, large bands spread along the vault of the sky, converging toward the lunar disc, displaying beautiful prismatic colors; and he remarks, that within the torrid zone, similar appearances are the common phenomena of the night, sometimes vanishing and returning in the space of a few minutes, which he assigns to the superior currents of air changing the state of the floating vapors, by which the light is refracted. Between latitude 15? of the equator, he records having observed small tinted halos around the planet Venus, the purple, orange, and violet being distinctly perceptible, which was never the case with Sirius, Canopus, or Acherner. In the northern regions solar and lunar halos are very common appearances, owing to the abundance of minute and highly crystallized spicula of ice floating in the atmosphere. The Arctic adventurers frequently mention the fall of icy particles during a clear sky and a bright sun, so small as scarcely to be visible to the naked eye, and most readily detected by their melting upon the skin.

APRIL.

BY MRS. E. L. CUSHING.

Hark to the silvery sound Of the soft April shower Telleth it not a pleasant tale Of bird, and bee, and flower? See, as the bright drops fall, How swell the tiny buds That gem each bare and leafless bough, Like polished agate studs.

The elder by the brook, Stands in her tusseled pride And the pale willow decketh her As might beseem a bride. And round the old oak's foot, Where in their wintry play, The winds have swept the withered leaves-- See, the Hepatria!

Its brown and mossy buds Greet the first breath of spring, And to her shrine, its clustered flowers, The earliest offering bring. In rocky cleft secure, The gaudy columbine Shoots forth, ere wintry snows have fled A floral wreath to twine.

And many a bud lies hid Beneath the foliage pent, Waiting spring's warm and wooing breath To deck the vernal year. When lo! sweet April comes, The wild bird hears her voice, And through the grove on glancing wing Carols, "rejoice! rejoice!"

Forth from her earthy nest The timid wood-mouse steals, And the blithe squirrel on the bough Her genial influence feels. The purple hue of life Flushes the teeming earth, Above, around, beneath the feet, Joy, beauty, spring to birth!

But on the distant verge Of the cerulean sky, Old Winter stands with angry frown And bids the syren fly. He waves his banner dark Raises his icy hand, And a fierce storm of sleet and hail, Obey his stern command.

She feareth not his wrath, But hides her sunny face Behind a soft cloud's fleecy fold For a brief instant's space, Then looketh gayly forth With smile of magic power, That changeth all his icy darts To a bright diamond shower.

Capricious April, hail! Herald of all things fair, 'Tis thine to loose the imprisoned streams, The young buds are thy care. To unobservant eye Thy charms are few, I ween; But he who roves the woodland paths Where thy blithe step hath been,

Will trace thee by the tufts Of fragrant early flowers, That thy sweet breath hath waked, to deck The dreary forest bowers; And by the bursting buds, That at thy touch unfold To clothe the tall tree's naked arms With beauty all untold,

Will hear thy tuneful voice In the glad leaping streams, And catch thy bland, yet fitful smile In showers and sunny gleams. Then welcome April, fair! Bright harbinger of May! Month of blue skies and perfumed air-- The young year's holyday!

AWAY.

B. B.

Floateth in upon my senses now the melody of brooks, And the drip of fragrant waters, far in solitary nooks-- O avaunt! ye tedious tasks! O get ye gone! ye irksome books.

Why to linger pent and stifled in this chamber small and low, Through the casement on my temples thus to feel the breezes blow, Bidding me to come and follow where at liberty they go?

Why amid this noisy Babel mingle in the petty strife, In the wearying din and discord with which every day is rife, While the full, free life within me yearns to greet its kindred life?

O, those boundless breadths of forest unrestrained to wander through, Where the lofty pine mounts upward to the firmament of blue, Where the swarth and stalwart savage paddles in his birch canoe.

O, to hear my ringing shout of exultation echo clear In the woodland, by the moose-tramp and the covert of the deer, Or where stalk the stately bison who have never known to fear,

On the broad and blooming pampas, with their fat and teeming soil Never marred by human culture, never by unwilling toil, Where the wild herds roam uninjured, and the gleaming serpents coil.

Or where crawls the full-fed Ganges down into his sandy bed, And the sluggish hippopotamus uprears his clumsy head, Where the beauty-bringing cestus of the torrid zone is spread.

Where many a glowing river rolls along its wealth of tide Through the tangled vines and palm-trees bending down on either side, With the orange bloom and citron, and the tall acacia's pride.

Where the scaly cayman basking on the yellow bank is laid, And the brilliant-plumaged song-birds call in every spicy glade, There to hunt the spotted leopard in the jungle's depth of shade.

Or beyond the spreading oceans, in some distant Paynim land, Swifter than the fiery simoom sweep across the plains of sand, On a fleet and naked barb, and wield a keenly flashing brand.

O for days of careless gladness, days that evermore are gone, When the spirit-thrilling summons of the silver bugle-horn Roused the green-clad host of merry men at break of dewy morn.

--Cease thy prating, foolish Fancy, Fancy wayward, unconfined, List the mighty music rushing on the pinions of the wind, 'Tis the onward tread of nations, 'tis the endless march of mind.

SONG.

Each gentle word thy lip imparts, Each glance of thy dear eye, Is hidden in my heart of hearts As in a treasury.

And, though but once in life we've met And ne'er may meet again, The memory of this hour, shall yet Within my heart remain,

As the bright tinge of crimson dye, When the red sun descends, Long lingers in the western sky And with the twilight blends.

Still let me cherish thoughts of thee Till life's sad hours are o'er; Think of me, sometimes, tenderly-- I may not ask for more.

THE FIRST AGE.

BY H. DIDIMUS.

BOOK FIRST.

The broad sun, red, and with softened beams, rose lazily upon the young earth. The wide sea, unruffled, heaved to and fro, mirroring in its depths the new-made canopy of azure and of gold spread by God's hand, from limit to limit, over water and land, and all the stream of ocean. The herbage stood rank, thick, heavy, tall and motionless; and covered with vast shade mountain and valley and plain; for not yet had the revolving seasons, and storms, with falling rain abraded the soil, and bared rocks, and worn acclivities; nor the breath of heaven hastened in its course, circling the earth; nor the poles left their place to rise and fall, vibrating; but one unending spring ruled throughout the year. Rivers rolled--unvexed and noiseless--toward the bosom of their great mother; and the mountain stream scarce murmured as it fell, whitening, from sward to sward, to sleep in some still lake, happy with water-fowl. Herds of cattle--of horses and of deer, the elephant and the bison--wandered, uncared for, through fat pastures, beautiful with flowers; and the lion roamed at will, and crouched in every dingle, and in every glen, and took his prey. The air was vocal with the voice of birds, of birds innumerable, which saluted with morning hymn the growing day; and the hum of insects--which all night had drummed in the drowsy ear of silence--was hushed, and folding their wings, they slept. It is the primeval age.

Chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-eh-uh; oo-ugh, oo-ugh; chrr-oo-uh--A white pigeon stood upon the lowest branch, heavy with foliage, of a noble oak, planted with creation, and arched his neck, and drooped his wings, and turned round and round, calling to his mate. Chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-eh-uh; oo-ugh; oo-ugh; chrr-oo-uh--And the white pigeon looked out upon the sea, which rolled inward with its new voice, deep and hoarse, as it rolls now, and broke softly upon the glittering strand, just beneath his feet; and back to the wooded mountains, which showed blue and misty through the air, capped with silvery clouds; and beneath the arms of the forest trees, where the land rose gently from the shore, carpeted with green and gold, and all colors of the sun woven into flowers. Chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-eh-uh; oo-ugh; oo-ugh; chrr-oo-uh--calling to his mate.

From a deep, embowered grot--half-hidden within a grove of oranges, and trellised with the woodbine and the grape, clustering--came a sweet voice, singing; not with the musical cadence and alliteration, and returning rhyme of later days, when intellect refined to weaken, but with the promptings of the soul, gushing, unmeasured, finding speech as it might.

"Call, call to your mate, happy bird, and she shall call to you again; but where is he who should call to me, in this day of joy? Erix, my Erix, rising like the sun in his strength, with broad shoulders, and a brow moulded by God! And the glory of his head, brighter than the beams of the morning; those curls which I, with merry fingers, have so often twisted, until they sprang from me with life and laughter, and clung about his neck, kissingly--why do they not dance before me, gladdening my sight? And those arms, like twisted vines, which hold and give every happiness--why are they not here to receive me? And those lips, which are so used to praise me, until I wonder at my own comeliness, and lose my breath in their thieving--why are they not here to bless me, with their music so subduing? And those eyes, so large and deep, those wells of passion, in which I live a double being, in which I see my own blushing--why are they not here, to kindle and to burn? Oh! Erix, my Erix, as flowers love the earth, as the earth loves the sun, as the sun loves its Maker, so is my love for thee, most beautiful and most excellent!"

And with the singing, came a fair maid, tripping into the outer air; large, lithe of limb, like the moon riding in mid-heaven, when seen in her full light, paling the stars. Her hair fell, unbound, even to her feet, covering half her shape; and about her waist was knit a robe of sables, which flowed downward, and concealed no excellence above the girdle. Her form was sister to the antelope, and her face, one, which Phidias would have chiseled for a Juno of giant make. Her glowing eyes, blue as the ether above them, rolled liquid as she sang, and bent the knee, and worshiped, extending her arms, which showed like wreaths of snow borne upon the wind, toward the mounting day--not ignorantly, for she was too near to God in time, to have forgotten him. Then rising, she also looked upon the sea, smiling in the sunlight, and loved it; for she was born upon its shores, and, with life, its roar filled her ears. She loved it--coming to her, from whence she knew not, from beyond the reach of space, which to her eye was bounded by the heavens, that bowed down and girdled the waters--and enticed, the robe of sables fell from her, and the glad brine received her, and mounting, laved all her beauty. Thus swimming, thus sporting, thus playing with young ocean, now floating, now dipping beneath his bosom heaving with great joy. The white pigeon left its perch, and sought a new rest, even the fair maid's fair brow, rising from the wave, and arched its neck, and drooped its wings, and turned round and round, chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-eh uh; oo-ugh; oo-ugh; chrr-oo-uh; calling to its mate.

The white pigeon nestled in the grot, and knew its mistress, and her caress; and when the maid would have taken it tenderly in her hand, smoothing its ruffled feathers, it flew upward, cleaving the air in circles, and descending, lighted upon her wrist, and pecked at her taper fingers, roseate with health, and arched its neck, and drooped its wings, and turned round and round; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-uh; chrr-oo-eh-uh; oo-ugh; oo-ugh; chrr-oo-uh; calling to its mate.

"Call, call to your mate, happy bird, and she shall call to you again; but, where is he who should call to me, in this my bridal hour? Erix, my love, my life, my soul's sole hope!"

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