North Pole is that hitherto unattainable point on our globe on which, if an observer could take his station, he would find that the phenomena of the rising and the setting of the stars, so familiar elsewhere, was non-existent. Each star viewed from the coign of vantage offered by the North Pole would move round and round in a horizontal circle; and the system of concentric circles would be directly overhead. In midsummer the sun would seem to revolve around, remaining practically at the same elevation above the horizon for a few days, until it slowly began to wend its way downwards in a spiral. In a couple of months it would draw near the horizon, and as day after day passed by the luminary would descend lower and lower until its edge grazed the horizon all round. The setting of the sun for the long winter would then be about to commence, and gradually less and less of the disc would remain perceptible. Finally the sun would disappear altogether, though for many days afterwards a twilight glow would travel round the whole hemisphere, ever getting less and less, until at last all indications of the sun had vanished.
The utter darkness of winter would then ensue for months, mitigated only so far as celestial luminaries were concerned by starlight or occasional moonlight. Doubtless, however, the fitful gleams of the aurora would often suffice to render the surrounding desolation visible. Then as the spring drew near, if, indeed, such a word as spring be at all applicable to an abode of utter dreariness, a faint twilight would be just discernible. The illuminated portion of the sky would move round and round the horizon each twenty-four hours, gradually becoming more and more conspicuous, until at last the edge of the sun appeared. Then, by a spiral movement inverse to that with which
