Anon, the obeisances of the various subordinates who escort him to his seat are particularly delightful; and so is the peal of the organ, which breaks forth as his worship's foot sounds upon the grating of the aisle. The congregation all turn their eyes toward him-old and young, beautiful and plain. He is the one object of the thought of seven or eight hundred church-going souls!

It is a rare moment, to be tasted in memory over and over again in the aftertime. He knows, from a remembrance of his own youthful days, what is going on in their minds while they stare at him True, there are sure to be some irreverent scoffers among them, who gaze only to criticise to find fault with his nose, his expression, the cut of his whiskers, his deportment, and his very attitude as he stands to pray, with his face bowed into his hat. But these are the minority. For the most part, he is on a pedestal of glory in the minds of the congregation. The mothers-bless their hearts!-are perhaps whispering to their large-eyed, hopeful sons that some day-who knows?-they too may be as great a man. The young men of a sober turn are puckering their brows in the strength of their resolution, sooner or later, to mount upon the throne of justice and government which he now occupies.

Of course, there are trying moments even for a Mayor. He cannot be sure of the affection of all his subordinate colleagues. He is stung frequently by the satire of this or that Councillor; puzzled frequently when he is called upon to express his valuable opinion upon a subject about which he is fatally ignorant or indifferent; distressed beyond measure when he fails to reply with grace to the gracious speeches which are directed towards him at banquets and civic meetings; vexed to find that he cannot help being at discord with some one, though he devote his best energies to deft trimming, and though he beam upon the world at large with

ever so hearty a smile of genuine benevolence.

All the same, as time goes on, he wears well into the situation. He gets to love the mayoral chair as much as he loves his home lounge. He has accustomed himself to call his spouse "Lady Mayoress" instead of plain "Matilda." At first it was a playful jest, but as the months went by. it became an established custom. And, at length, when his year of office is ended he is as loth to discontinue the custom as to give up any other cherished old habit. He feels it a real sorrow to have to step from supremacy into comparative obscurity in a moment. Yet it is much to be able to say that he has had his official *fling."

68

It is as interesting to trace the Aldermanic ascension as to mark the gratification of the Mayor in his chair of state.

He

The beginning is often very lowly. Many a spark of ambition has been unexpectedly struck in the humble schoolroom or tavern chamber to which the candidate has summoned his supporters, and to which others besides his supporters have come, to tease him and try his mettle. It may be the candidate's first appearance as a public character. If so, there will be much that may disagree with him. He will stand in mortal need of buttressing by those of his party who are guilty of urging him to the front. will be tempted to sigh for a little cognac to cheer his heart's cockles, instead of the pure water which glitters coldly at him from the neat bottle by the elbow of his staunch advocate in the chair. It is one thing to sit at home at ease in the midst of an admiring family, and there declaim about the evils which fatten like a cankerworm in the heart of the council chamber. The candidate's wife may have her private opinion about her husband's abilities; but of course she will not betray him. As for his sisters, and cousins, and aunts, their applause will be rapturous. The dear creatures are so full of generous impulses that they do not care to trouble themselves about the substance of John's remarks.

But it is quite another thing to face a couple of hundred hard-featured, bearded, and horny-handed electors, who are by no means disposed even to be impartial in their judgement of him.

The most trivial misadventure at such a time often proves calamitous. The anxious expression of the candidate's face may provoke his audience to laughter. A hair

out of order in his head will serve equally well, or rather equally ill. The tone of his voice may strike a false note in his hearers' minds. If he is fat, that is an argument of his lethargic nature. He is not the man for them, who have grievances to be redressed. If he is thin, some one suggests that he has enough work upon his hands to keep himself in the land of the living. Even his accomplishments are put in the scale against him. His cultured accent is attributed to conceit and high falutin. His enemies charge him with insulting them by speaking Latin, when in truth it is only his English that they misunderstand. A bright necktie is an indication of extravagant tastes. Rings on the fingers are proofs of the same. The man who is so liberal of his own cash upon unnecessary expenses is not likely to be very careful of the town's expenditure. Therefore, he is not the man for them.

Nor does the candidate's success depend wholly on his own platform address. The person in the chair is of some importance. This gentleman is commonly chosen from among the electors as a delicate concession to their feelings. But the electors have their own views of the matter. They purse their lips, for example, when Ebenezer Jones, drysalter in a very small way, rises to open the meeting; and they are firmly resolved, whatever they may think of the candidate, that they will have no respect for anything that Mr. Jones may say to them.

I call to mind one occasion when such a chairman was quashed from the outset by a cruel accident. The meeting was held in the district Board school; and the schoolroom was, after the manner of such places, ornamented with maps, moral texts, and coloured prints of useful domestic animals, A brown ass, in the attitude of braying, was hung upon the wall behind the chair, and at such an elevation that when the chairman rose, in a state of immense nervousness, and began with his "ladies and gentlemen" (no ladies being present), the ass was, as it were, mounted upon his

cranium.

This was irresistible. The Philistines screamed with pleasure. To the chairman's horror, even the candidate's backers laughed broadly, or chuckled into their large hard hands. Twice the poor gentleman essayed to speak, changing colour like a chameleon. Then he asked of his supporters, in a forlorn aside, what was

the matter. But he could obtain no comfort in that quarter. His want of success was by them ascribed to his personal deficiencies, not to anything extraneous. They repented that they had set in the chair so mediocre an individual, and one who was so distinctly persona ingrata with the constituency. Poor Mr. Chairman in this case eventually withdrew from the room in wrath bordering upon convalsions.

At meetings of this kind no small amount of tact is demanded from the chairman. He may be a man who has hitherto elbowed his way through life, with no regard for any one's ribs except his own. This new situation will then be apt to test him upon quite fresh ground. Homely eloquence is all very well, but the most Doric of allusions and similes will be likely to give offence to some one. On a certain occasion, when the candidate was very lean, but with superb cerebral developement (if the size of his head really meant anything), the chairman, in a fit of witty inspiration, confided to his audience that he liked to see men big here (touching his skull), and not here (pointing to his abdomen). The next moment, the chief supporter of the candidate, an Alderman of twenty years' standing, left the room, pushing his stomach before him, as the French say, and turkey-red with indignation.

It is trifles like these that largely influence the course of municipal elections. But the enjoyment of the evening culminates when the candidate himself, for the first time, gets upon his feet to address his constituents. Unless he have beforehand taken lessons in self-possession and elocution, or be well looked after by Nature in this respect, his overthrow will be as much more disastrous than the mistake of his chairman, as is the fall of the pillar of a house than the fall of a coping-stone. The audible criticism from his opponents, to which he has perforce to submit, are not of the stimulating kind. These gentlemen draw their comparisons from no dignified source. If the opposition candidate be a man of means and energy, and not above bribing a little organised body of his backers, these will even go so far as to make mouths at our friend, or put the thumb to the nose in his honour. Though he have every word of his speech off by heart, it is then as if he had not learnt a syllable of it. The jibing faces and the discouragement in all eyes

give very much to be able to recall before it appears in print. There will be a show of hands at the end, and the chairman, reckless of arithmetic, will pronounce that every one is in favour of Mr. Tapes. But the candidate himself will go home feeling a little sad. He has four or five other meetings to attend, and if they are all as trying as the first, it will go hard with him. However, the end crowns the labour, and he is quite consoled when at length he becomes Mr. Councillor Tapes.

CELESTIAL PHENOMENA.

THE aurora borealis is one of the most striking and splendid spectacles in the heavens. In the temperate latitudes it appears as a faint, beautiful yellow light, like the morning or evening twilight. It generally rises from a kind of dark cloud, or collection of vapours, which runs along from the north to the east and west. Sometimes it is perpetually changing its altitude, and seems to roll like a sea in a storm. The luminous matter immediately above the clouds is pretty steady and uniform. But from this there are streams that dart up towards the zenith with great rapidity. They are suddenly extinguished and renewed, and continually shift their places. They often resemble the tail of a comet; sometimes they extend to the zenith, forming a beautiful canopy of Juminous wreaths, like the curling of flames that meet at the top of an oven.

The height of an aurora borealis varies; some have supposed it to be fifty to seventy miles above the surface of the earth; some have supposed it to be a thousand miles, whilst others have made it one hundred and fifty miles. The duration of this light is generally in proportion to its intensity and extent. Sometimes it continues only for a few minutes. It is frequently observed, in a greater or less degree, during most of the night; and, in some instances, it has Jasted several days, and even a week, without interruption.

From observations made by the writer, the phenomenon occurs more frequently at the time of the equinoxes, when the tides are highest, than at the solstices, when they are lowest. But the period of most frequent occurrence seems to extend through the spring and fall months, and to have very little correspondence with the annual tides. The months most fa

vourable are April and November, and the least favourable July and December.

In the northern districts of Siberia an aurora borealis gradually increases in size, until it comprehends a large space of the heavens; it rushes from place to place with incredible velocity, and finally almost covers the whole sky up to the zenith, and produces an appearance as if a vast tent was expanded in the heavens, glittering with gold, rubies, and sapphire. However fine the illumination may be, it is attended with a hissing, crackling, and rushing noise through the air, like the discharge of fireworks. The hunters in these regions are often overtaken by these lights, and their dogs become so terrified that they lie down on the ground until the noise has ceased. The same phenomena have been witnessed at Hudson's Bay, and by the Greenland whalefishers. Something of the kind has been perceived also in lower latitudes. Mr. Cavallo declares that he has repeatedly heard a crackling noise proceeding from an aurora. Mr. Maine, the electrician, states with great confidence that, at a time when the northern lights were very remarkable in England, they were attended with a hissing or whizzing sound. Dr. Belknap, in his account of these lights as they appeared in New Hampshire in 1719, says: "In a calm night, and in the intervals between the gentle flaws of wind, an attentive ear, in a retired situation, may perceive it to be accompanied by a sound like that made by a silk handkerchief rabbed along the edge by a quick motion of the thumb and finger." But one of the most remarkable circumstances attending this phenomenon is that it sometimes does not appear for many years. It is but little more than a century since it has been so frequent and conspicuous as to attract any considerable attention. No appropriate name was given to it by the ancient philosophers, and no very distinct account of it is to be found among their writings. Seneca, in treating of thunder and lightning, speaks of the air being inflamed by motion, and being converted into fire; but whether with any reference to the aurora borealis, is not certain. We have accounts by historians of luminous appearances in the heavens under the name of comets, or the more general one of portents, which answer much better to an aurora borealis than to any comet of modern times. Justin relates that a comet appeared about one hundred and twenty-two years before

Still, it is very surprising that after the revival of letters, and after the spirit of observation and enquiry had begun to be awakened, we meet with no record of any such phenomena, till about three centuries ago. The earliest account in English relates to one that appeared in 1560. From this time they happened frequently for about ten years. For the next forty years there are none on record. From 1620, for two or three years, there were several remarkable ones, and then no more for eighty years. This brings us down to the commencement of the eighteenth century, during which they have appeared at regular intervals. The aurora borealis in Europe is not only of rare occurrence, but is, for the most part, incomplete, feeble, and imperfect. As we approach to the polar circles we are greeted with this light almost as regular as with the light of the Milky Way, and it is as welcome as that of the moon. Maupertuis, who, with several others, went to measure an arc of the meridian on the confines of the frigid zone, continued to prosecute his nice and difficult work by the aid of this light long after the sun had left him. He says that it is sufficient, together with the light of the other heavenly bodies, for most of the occasions of life.

Various theories have been advanced to account for the origin of these lights. The most plausible theory seems to be that which gives to the northern and southern lights an electrical origin. The appearance of the light itself is very similar to that which is produced by sending the electric fluid through a portion of air rarefied to the same degree as that in the upper regions of the atmosphere. The rapidity of the motions that are observed in the light and beautiful streams that play from the horizon to the zenith, and dart through this space in a few seconds, answers to no power with which we are acquainted so well as to electricity. The rustling noises have been expressly com

In 1806 the whole of Dover Castle was brought over and placed on the Ramsgate side of the hill situated between the two places, and the image was so strong that the hill itself could not be seen through it. In 1798, at Hastings, the French coast, which is forty or fifty miles distant, was as distinctly seen as through the best glasses; as the cliffs gradually appeared more elevated, the sailors and fishermen pointed out and named the different places they had been accustomed to visit, such as the Bay, the windmill at Boulogne, Saint Valery, and other places on the coast of Picardy. From the eastern cliff one gentleman saw at once Dungeness, Dover cliffs, and the French coast all the way from Calais, Boulogne, on to Saint Valery, and, as some of the fishermen affirmed, as far as Dieppe. The day was extremely hot, without a breath of wind.

On another occasion, the town of Dieppe became visible, though sixty miles distant. A few years ago, a boy observed at Flambro' "fields, and hedges, and houses, over the sea;" but they had gradually melted away. This interesting spectacle is very rare in this part of the country. The boy was filled with amazement at what he had witnessed; but, unfortunately, could give no accurate description of the scene.

It is well known that places fifty or sixty miles distant have, by the phenomenon of the mirage, or refraction of the atmosphere, become distinctly visible. It is, therefore, not impossible that on this occasion the coast of Denmark actually became visible to the boy. It would have been interesting to have ascertained the fact, if fact it were, that Flambro', for centuries the stronghold of the Danes, had in the latter half of the nineteenth century been visited, in optical illusion at least, not by the ravaging Viking, bent on plunder and slaughter, but by the very land itself, with its fields,. its hedgerows, and its houses, the property of its peaceful inhabitants. The vast expanse of ocean intervening between Flambro' and Denmark seems to make this improbable; but during the summer of 1885 a pretty mirage was seen at sea from Oxclosund, in Sweden. It represented two tree-clad islands, on one of which were buildings with two monitors steaming off the islands. at the same time two Swedish monitors

There were