ourselves with seeing him touch its face. On our return, the eye, having had time to accommodate itself to the darkness around, embraced several objects; the roof, sides, and crags in many places, which had before escaped it. Our entertainment also was varied by a blast, as it is termed—the discharge of a small quantity of gunpowder thrust into the rock, occasioning an explosion only to be compared to that sound which the imagination would conceive might be produced, if univerşal nature were at once to tumble into ruins.

As we retraced our footsteps, the guide ingeniously threw in a few anecdotes relating to the place, well calculated to interest the mind under that state of astonishment to which it had been excited; a good method of giving importance to himself, enhancing the merit of his services, and consequently increasing his remuneration. Amongst others, we were informed, that the brook which flowed through the cavern was frequently so much swollen as to prevent access into the interior of it; and that it had sometimes happened, parties had been surprized by unexpected inundation, and only rescued from destruction by the address of the guide. Two ycars since some ladies who had put themselves under the protection of three or four military gentlemen, visited the cavern in

the morning, and returned without molestation; but incautiously attending to an after-dinner solicitation, when these heroes were under the influence of a less considerative deity than their morning genius, they ventured a second time into the cavern; the water rose, and had not the guide expeditiously forced them out, at the expence of their being drenched to the skin, they would in ten minutes have been prevented by the waters from returning, and confined within the bowels of the mountain for a fortnight, without the possibility of a rescue by any earthly power. It is to be observed, however, that these inundations may generally be foreseen; so that nothing but incaution, obstinacy, or foolhardiness, can lead the visitor into so perilous a situation as we have described.

Commiseration for suffering is lessened, when brought on by causes that are voluntary in the patient; and we were not much affected with pity, when told of a similar misfortune that had befallen a certain nobleman better known than esteemed in the north-western part of England, about thirty years ago. This person, who was then a baronet, had visited the cavern with the father of the present guide, and paid him very sordidly for his trouble. Dekin remonstrated, but was answered with contumely and indignation. As no redress could be had,

like a prudent man, he was silent; but, manet altâ mente repóstum, the injury was not forgotten, and a fair opportunity of revenge soon presented itself to him. The baronet again came to Castleton, to visit the cavern. Dekin, however, endeavoured to persuade him to desist from entering it, as the waters were out above, and the stream likely to overflow below. But all his representations were without effect; the noble baronet would not brook contradiction, and insisted on being taken in. More wise than his companion, Dekin planted a man at the little river over which the visitor is ferried, with orders for him to discharge a pistol when he perceived the waters begin to rise. The duet had reached the extremity of the cavern, and were now returning, when the report of the pistol was heard. "What is that?" exclaimed the baronet, astonished at the reverberated sound. Dekin informed him, and at the same time contrived, as if by accident, to extinguish the tapers in his hand. In this dreadful situation, "every man for himself," seemed to be the obvious rule of action; and Dekin, with many expressions of alarm, slipped from the side of his companion. Nothing could now equal his horror; he prayed and intreated not to be deserted in this desperate situation, and made offers of the most liberal rewards, if the guide would

return, and re-conduct him into day. Dekin supported the farce with great address; and making a merit of disregarding his own preservation for the sake of the baronet, took him under his direction; feeding his terrors by occasional doubts whether he should be able to discover the intricacies of the caverns, (though every inch of them was as familiar to him as his own threshold) and thus brought him to the ferry just in time to save their passage before the stream met the rock. The adventure, by which justice was satisfied and revenge indulged, served the old man for a laugh as long as he lived. We were glad to find that Loutherberg had availed himself of scenes so admirably adapted to his pencil; and committed to the canvas an effect of all others the most singular, that of distant daylight through the mouth of the cavern, breaking in upon the eye after its having so long been confined to the faint rays of a candle glimmering in outer darkness.

Having compleated our subterraneous excursion, we turned to the right into a ravine called the Cave Valley, to look at a heap of basalt, discovered there a few years ago. This is a narrow glen, sunk between two vast limestone rocks, gradually opening into width as it extends in length. Following this hollow about a mile from Castleton,

we perceived the basaltic column to the left, very irregular in its form, but in hardness and texture similar to those of Staffa in the Hebrides, and the Giant's-Causeway in Ireland. Incorporated in it is crystallized quartz, approaching in appearance to chalcedony. This column is part of a vast unshaped basaltic mass which stretches north and south about sixty yards; covered with a stratum of clay that has very much the look of scoria, and seems to indicate volcanic effects in these parts. It is of great thickness, and considerable dip. The toadstone, which ranges under the limestone in strata of different thickness, from three or four fathoms to above one hundred, and contains in its pores chalcedony, zeolite, and calcareous spar, occurs in the immediate neighbourhood of the basalt, but is sufficiently distinguishable from it by being less hard and compact; indeed, there are great varieties of both, but especially of the toadstone, from a dark brown to a light-coloured ochre full of fine green spots. Opposite to this basalt is the mountain of limestone; and like most of the others in this neighbourhood, stratified; the strata separated by little beds of clay. The admirable lime burned from the stone renders the barren declivities that compose the mountains around productive of oats, the only grain attempted to be sown