I have often been struck with the singular circumstance that up to this time we have scarcely seen the Aurora Borealis; and until to-day there has been no display of any great brilliancy. We have been twice favored during the past twelve hours. The first was at eleven o'clock in the morning, and the second at nine o'clock in the evening. The arch was perfect in the last case; in the former it was less continuous, but more intense. In both instances, the direction of the centre from the observatory was west by south (true), and was 30° above the horizon. Twenty degrees above the arch in the evening there was another imperfect one, a phenomenon which I have not before witnessed. In the direction west-northwest a single ray shot down to the horizon, and there continued for almost an hour. The infrequency of the Auroral light has been more marked here than at Van Rensselaer Harbor. We seem to have passed almost beyond it. The region of its greatest brilliancy appears to be from ten to twenty degrees further south. As at Van Rensselaer Harbor, its exhibition is almost invariably on the western sky; and Jensen tells me that this occurs at Upernavik, and he says also that the phenomena are there much more brilliant and of greater frequency than here. The display of the morning was much finer than that of the evening. Indeed, I have rarely witnessed a more sublime or imposing spectacle. By the way, how strange it seems to be speaking of events happening in the morning and in the evening, when, to save your life, you could not tell without the clock by what name to call the divisions of time! We say eleven o'clock in the morning and eleven o'clock in the evening from habit; but if, by any mischance, we should lose our reckoning for twelve hours, we would then go on calling the evening morning and the morning evening, without being able to detect the error by any difference in the amount of light at these two periods of the day. But this is a digression. [Sidenote: AURORA.]