THE AURORA, 
245 
“ Do you remember, in the Spanish coasting craft, 
down about Barcelona and the Balearics, the queer 
little pictures of Saint Nicholas we used to see pasted 
up over the looker — a sort of mythic effigy, which the 
owner looked upon pretty much as some of our old 
commodores do the barometer, a mysterious some- 
thing, which he sneers at in fair weather, but is sure, 
in the strong faith of ignorance, to appeal to in foul ! 
Well, very much such a Saint Anthony have we down 
in the cabin here, staring us always in the face. Not 
a vermilion-daubed puerility, with a glory in Dutch 
leaf stretching from ear to ear ; but a good, genuine, 
hearty representative of English flesh and blood, a 
mouth that speaks of strong energies as well as a 
kindly heart, and an eye— the other one is spoiled in 
the lithography — that looks stern will. Many a time 
in the night have I discoursed with him, as he looked 
out on me from his gutta percha frame — ‘ Sir John 
F ranklin ; presented by his wife and sometimes I 
have imagined how and where I was yet to shake the 
glorious old voyager by the hand. I see him now 
while I am writing ; his face is darkened by the lamp- 
smoke that serves us for daylight and air, and. he seems 
almost disheartened. So far as help and hope of it 
are afloat in this little vessel. Sir John, well you may 
be ! 
“It is Sunday: we have had religious service as 
usual, and after it that relic of effete absurdity, the 
reading of the ‘ Rules and Regulations.’ 
“We had the aurora about 7 P.M. The thermom- 
eter at —33° and falling ; barometer. Aneroid, 30° 74'' ; 
attached thermometer, 86°. Wind steady, W.N.W. 
The meteor resembled an illuminated cloud ; illumin- 
ated, because seen against the deep blue night sky ; 
