pass. These are drawn by horses, who are driven by a merry lad sitting on the front of the waggon, and singing his driver's song.

We then turn down a still narrower gallery to the right, and pass through doors which are as carefully padded as if there lived within, some one who was terribly afraid of a draught. The only inhabitant, however, is a poor little fellow, the trapper-boy, who sits near to the door, to see that the said door is carefully closed after it has been opened. His work is very important, because these doors regulate the aircurrents which alone render the pit habitable; and as the current of fresh air drawn down has to travel, in some pits, through several miles of workings before it comes up by the upcast-shaft, the carelessness of the trapper-boy might prevent the regularity of the current, and thus destroy all the underground workers.

We pass on, and turning to the left, enter a still narrower avenue, and after creeping some distance, come upon a batch of men at work getting out coal. There is the black seam lying between immense masses of rock or shale; and as we gaze on it we naturally ask, "What is it?—and how did it get there?" There can be no doubt of the vegetable origin of coal. Various impressions of plants have been found in it, and nearly 300 species of fossil-plants have been detected in the coal-formation, besides large trunks of trees. This vegetation must have been of a vigorous growth, and though some of it doubtless grew where the coal is found, part of it certainly has been drifted down the rivers from a distance, till it was arrested and submerged. Then a layer of mud or sand was formed above it, and the earth again subsided; and this process was repeated till the various seams of coal were deposited and formed in the earth vast ages ago.

These seams would be deposited horizontally; and, if they had never been disturbed, would have been buried in

that position so far down beneath the surface that we should never have known of their existence. By the action of volcanic forces, however, from beneath, they have been upheaved and brought nearer the surface in all positions-some curved as a basin, and others at various angles of inclination. Some are brought so near that they crop out on the surface, while others are still so far below that they can hardly be reached by man. The diamond and the coal are both composed of the same substance-carbon; and, of the two, the latter is certainly the most important for the wealth and prosperity of Great Britain.

We sit on a heap of coal-dust and rest, while we watch the hewers picking underneath the seam, and boring the hole into which gunpowder is to be placed; and on retiring to a distance we hear a "bang!" and then find that a great mass of the seam has been loosened, and is ready to be selected and placed in the little waggons, which when loaded are pushed by lads down the narrow galleries to the main gallery, where the horse-train is made up. The men are paid so much per hundredweight or waggon, and by working eight or ten hours a day they can earn large wages.

The work is very severe, and the heat and dust are intolerable to strangers; and the confined space, and the posture necessary for working the seams, often give the miners' lower limbs a crooked appearance, while the work intensely developes the strength of the upper portion of the body. In pits where there is explosive gas, unprotected lights are never allowed-the Davy lamps must be used; but where the pit is free from this gas, candles are employed. A constant stream of fresh air is supplied to every part, by a carefully-directed system of ventilation. The under-current is secured by keeping an immense fire burning at the bottom of the up-shaft, over which the vitiated current of air rushes with the force of a whirlwind, and the noise of a thundering cataract.

Having explored below, we are drawn up in the cage, Pretty figures we look! What with the perspiration and the coal-dust, we are as black as sweeps, and shiver in consequence of the great difference between the temperature of the regions above and those below. As the tubs of coal come to the surface, they are emptied over large screens, the first of which carries away all the fine dust, the second the smaller pieces or nuts; the rest, properly cleaned, is received into waggons according to its quality, and when weighed over the weighingmachine, is ready to be forwarded to its destination. At one time coal was brought to London entirely by ship-hence the term "sea-borne coal"; but now the railways bring from all parts of England vast quantities of coal for house and steam purposes.

The outward aspect of the pitmen's cottages is, sometimes, far from inviting; there is, however, always good fare within; and when the miner and his sons come home, the savoury smell and hissing sound are wonderfully attractive to the weary underground workers.

The miners like a holiday at least once a fortnight. They have their sports, and often take almost as much care of their coursing-dog, or their pigeons, as of their children. Education has lately made great progress among them; newspapers and illustrated journals are eagerly read, and the public questions of the day are keenly debated at the corner of the street or elsewhere. Their familiarity with danger makes them almost insensible to it; and when an accident happens, their eagerness has to be kept back, so ready are they to risk their own lives in the hope of saving those of their comrades.

We owe much to them; and an acquaintance with the nature of their underground life may, perhaps, make us more ready to appreciate the value of the black mineral, which speeds us on our journey homeward, and welcomes us at home with its grateful heat and bright cheerful blaze.

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE AURORA BOREALIS.

THIS Latin expression is generally translated as the "Northern Lights," but it really means a "Northern Daybreak." It usually makes its appearance in the north, and its light is very much like that which is seen in the east, when the rising sun is first showing above the horizon.

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Sunrise is poetically called the Aurora, as being the golden" part of the day. "Aurum is the Latin name for gold.

This wonderful light has been seen also in the direction of the South Pole, and is then called the "Aurora Australis.'

There really seems to be no means of ascertaining from what this mysterious appearance arises. It is now generally considered to be the overflowings of the electricity outside our atmosphere making its way from the Poles towards the Equator. It is almost universally considered to be absolutely unconnected with the sun, or any other heavenly body, and to arise entirely from an atmospheric cause.

Although the Aurora Borealis is attributed to the operation of electricity in the atmosphere, and experiments have been tried with the magnetic needle, the results have not been absolutely decisive; for, while in some trials the effect seemed most marked, in others there appeared to be no effect at all upon the needle.

Whatever may be the origin of these lights, one thing is quite certain, they appear oftenest where they are most required-namely, in those gloomy northern regions where the might continues for months together. It would appear that either they are very uncertain and capricious in their times and places of showing themselves, in regions removed from the seas

of eternal snow-or that the inhabitants and learned men have not always noticed them.

There are various records of the Aurora Borealis which was seen in England in the year 1716, and it was then asserted that none had been observed during the previous eighty years, and no remarkable one since the year 1574. Its coming in the Arctic regions is said to be accompanied by a rattling noise; but no disturbance of any kind has been felt in connection with it at a greater distance from the pole.

In the Shetland Isles these Lights are very frequently seen on clear winter evenings; the people call them the "Merry Dancers."

The course of the Aurora's appearance is generally as follows:-After sunset, either late in the autumn or in the winter (generally on a clear starlight night) a kind of dim misty light stretching along our horizon, looking like a mixture of fire and smoke, rises in the form of the segment of a circle; this sends out broad irregular rays of red, violet, and sometimes bluish light. These rays all point upward towards the zenith, and are flanked on each side, that is on the east and on the west, by a great pillar of fiery light. These pillars continue to rise, and, as they rise, their summits converge till they join, and form a magnificent arch, brilliant with a splendid yellow light, which gradually changes into dark-green, followed by red. It sends out bright darts, which shoot like rockets towards the zenith, and at last meet, cross each other, and form what is called the "crown" of the Aurora.

This is its final point of splendour, and then the fading-away begins. By degrees the mass of light and the sparkling arrows disappear, and leave nothing behind but a few flickering rays.

Notwithstanding the comfort this phenomenon must bring to the inhabitants of the northern regions, it always causes an indistinct feeling of dread whenever it