ular and in some places overhanging, the abutments under the arch approach until their bases are not more than fifty feet apart. At ordinary times the stream does not occupy more than half this space; although, from its traces and water-marks, it frequently sweeps through in an unbroken volume, extending from rock to rock. The top of the bridge is covered with a clay soil to the depth of several feet, which nourishes a considerable growth of trees, generally of the evergreen species. These, with masses of rock, serve to form natural parapets along the sides, as if for greater security, and entirely obscure the view of the chasm from the passer. 18. Next day our friends revisited each point above and below the bridge with increased gratification, while Crayon employed himself in the attempt to portray its most striking features upon tinted paper. This, he avers, can not be accomplished by mortal hand; for, while he acknowledges he has seen several sketches that rendered the general outline and even minute details with great accuracy, he never saw one that conveyed, even in a remote degree, any of the majestic grandeur of the original. One of the most satisfactory views is obtained from a hill-side about half a mile below the bridge. From this point the perfection of the arch is more remarkable; and there is a fine view of the hill, which, a short distance to the right of its apex, is cleft to its base by this singular chasm. General Strother. THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 1. THE Mammoth Cave is in the southwest part of Kentucky, about a hundred miles from Louisville, and sixty from Harrodsburg Springs. The word cave is ill calculated to impress the imagination with an idea of its sur passing grandeur. It is, in fact, a subterranean world, containing within itself territories extensive enough for half a dozen German principalities. It should be named Titan's Palace or Cyclops' Grotto. It lies among the Knobs, a range of hills, which border an extent of country, like highland prairies, called the Barrens. The surrounding scenery is lovely. Fine woods of oak, hickory, and chestnut, clear of underbrush, with smooth, verdant openings, like the parks of English noblemen. 2. As you come opposite the entrance of the cave in summer, the temperature changes instantaneously from about 85° to below 60°, and you feel chilled as if by the presence of an iceberg. In winter, the effect is reversed. The scientific have indulged in various speculations concerning the air of this cave. It is supposed to get completely filled with cold winds during the long blasts of winter, and, as there is no outlet, they remain pent up till the atmosphere without becomes warmer than that within, when there is, of course, a continual effort toward equilibrium. Why the air within the cave should be so fresh, pure, and equable, all the year round, even in its deepest recesses, is not easily explained. 3. The superabundance of oxygen in the atmosphere operates like moderate doses of exhilarating gas. The traveler feels a buoyant sensation, which tempts him to run and jump and leap from crag to crag, and bound over the stones in his path. 4. The wide entrance to the cavern soon contracts, so that but two can pass abreast. This path continues about fourteen or fifteen rods, and emerges into a wider avenue, which leads directly into the Rotunda, a vast hall comprising a surface of eight acres, arched with a dome a hundred feet high without a single pillar to support it. It rests on irregular ribs of dark gray rock, in massive oval wings, smaller and smaller, one seen within another, till they ter minate at the top. Perhaps this apartment impresses the traveler as much as any portion of the cave, because from it he receives his first idea of its gigantic proportions. The vastness, the gloom, the impossibility of taking in the boundaries by the light of lamps-all these produce a deep sensation of awe and wonder. 5. From the Rotunda, you pass into Audubon's Avenue, from eighty to a hundred feet high, with galleries of rock on each side, jutting out farther and farther, till they nearly meet at top. This avenue branches out into a vast halfoval hall called the Church. This contains several projecting galleries, one of them resembling a cathedral choir. There is a gap in the gallery, and at the point of interruption, immediately above, is a rostrum, or pulpit, the rocky canopy of which juts over. The guide leads up from the adjoining galleries, and places a lamp each side of the pulpit, on flat rocks, which seem made for the purpose. Five thousand people could stand in this subterranean temple with ease. 6. From the Church you pass into what is called the Gothic Gallery, from its obvious resemblance to that style of architecture. Here is Mummy Hall, so called because several mummies have been found seated in recesses of the rock. 7. From Mummy Hall you pass into Gothic Avenue, where the resemblance to Gothic architecture very perceptibly increases. The wall juts out in pointed arches and pillars, on the sides of which are various grotesque combinations of rock. One is an elephant's head. The tusk and sleepy eyes are quite perfect. 8. As you pass along, the Gothic Avenue narrows, until you come to a porch composed of the first separate columns in the cave. The stalactite and stalagmite formations unite in these irregular masses of brownish yellow, which, when the light shines through them, look like transparent amber. They are sonorous as a clear-toned bell. A pendant mass, called the Bell, has been recently broken, by being struck too powerfully. 9. The porch of columns leads to the Gothic Chapel, which has the circular form appropriate to a true church. A number of pure stalactite columns fill the nave with arches, which in many places form a perfect Gothic roof. The stalactites fall in rich festoons, strikingly similar to the highly-ornamented chapel of Henry VII. Four columns in the center form a separate arch by themselves, like trees twisted into a grotto, in all irregular and grotesque shapes. Under this arch stands Wilkins's Arm-chair, a stalactite formation well adapted to the human figure. The chapel is the most beautiful specimen of the Gothic in the cave. Two or three of the columns have richly foliated capitals, like the Corinthian. 10. If you turn back to the main avenue, and strike off in another direction, you enter a vast room, with several projecting galleries, called the Ball Room. In close vicinity, as if arranged by the severer school of theologians, is a large amphitheatre, called Satan's Council Chamber. From the center rises a mountain of big stones, rudely piled one above another, in a gradual slope, nearly one hundred feet high. On the top rests a huge rock, big as a house, called Satan's Throne. The vastness, the gloom, partially illumined by the glare of lamps, forcibly remind one of Lucifer on his throne as represented by Martin in his illustrations of Milton. It requires little imagination to transform the uncouth rocks all around the throne into attendant demons. In this Council Chamber the rocks, with singular appropriateness, change from an imitation of Gothic architecture to that of the Egyptian. The dark, massive walls resemble a series of Egyptian tombs, in dull and heavy outline. 11. If you enter one of the caves revealed in the dis |