guide. After he had furnished each of the company with a lighted flambeau, he opened the door that led to a subterraneous gallery at the bottom of the grand vestibule, as it may be called. For some time curiosity overcame fear, and they proceeded with firm steps (though the projections of the rocks hung so low in many places that they could not walk up right), except now and then that Louisa silently squeezed her mother's hand. They advanced, some times stooping, sometimes erect, a hundred and forty feet, without complaint, till they reached the banks of a small rivulet, with a skiff floating upon it, ready to carry them to the other side: it was not very deep, but wholely enclosed in the solid rock, it stretched so far under the low vault, that they could not see an end of it. Here the guide stopped, and told them, that the caverns beyond this rivulet exceeded, in wonder and beauty, any thing that imagination could suggest; but that it was impossible to see them, unless they would submit to be ferried over, one at a time, stretched out at length on some clean straw, in the little boat they saw on the water. Catherine hesitated; Louisa entreated to go back; but Arthur, always fearless, jumped into the boat, and laid himself flat upon his back. The guide then stepped into the water, and pushed forward the little bark with one hand, while he held the torch in the other. The rest followed by turns, till none were left but Mrs Middleton and Louisa, who, persuaded by her mother that there was no cause for fear, and encouraged by the example of her companions, summoned courage to enter the boat. On landing, they found themselves in a cavern of vast extent, arched over with the solid rock at a prodigious height. At the further end of this huge cave was another water to cross; but they were grown bolder by habit, and went over without difficulty. This likewise led to a cavern of great magnitude; at its entrance a pile of rock pro

jects; water continually trickles away slowly from the top, and leaves a sediment of a stony nature. Persevering in their subterranean journey, they advanced beyond this to another cavern, called the Chancel. The vaults here are very lofty; and in the sides of the rock are hollow places, that, with the aid of a little fancy, may be conceived to represent Gothic windows and doors. Large sparry icicles, some as clear as crystal, hang from the roof upon the crags that project, and look like the drapery of curtains. The rocky floor is as smooth as a pavement, which, with the reflection of the torches, the gloomy solemnity of the place, and the chill damp, produced an inexpressible awe on every mind. Whilst their at

tention was steadfastly fixed on the objects before them, they were struck, on a sudden, with harmonious sounds, that seemed to echo from the lofty roof. Every eye was in an instant turned towards the place whence the melody proceeded, when they beheld, in a niche at the other end, about forty-eight feet from the bottom, five figures in white garments, immoveable as statues, holding a torch in each hand, and singing an air adapted to the occasion. These female choristers, they afterwards found, had been placed in that situation by the contrivance of the guide, to produce an extraordinary effect upon the spectators. The soothing effects of the music gave them fresh spirits, and they advanced cheerfully still further to several smaller caverns, which are intersected by the windings of a pretty large stream, whose gentle murmurs added to the general air of melancholy solemnity. Having advanced to the shores of a small river, which, from the depth of the rocks that hung over it, could not be passed, they were obliged to turn back, and retrace the same recesses of this hollow mountain that led them thither.

POETRY.

A Hymn.

THOU didst, O mighty God, exist
Ere time began its race,
Before the ample elements
Fill'd the voids of space.

up

Before the ponderous earthly globe
In fluid air was stay'd,
Before the ocean's mighty springs
Their liquid stores display'd;

Ere through the gloom of ancient night
The streaks of light appear'd;
Before the high celestial arch,

Or starry poles were rear'd;
Before the loud melodious spheres,
Their tuneful round begun,
Before the shining roads of heaven
Were measur❜d by the sun;

Ere through the empyrean courts
One hallelujah rung,

Or to their harps the sons of light
Ecstatic anthems sung;

Ere men ador'd, or angels knew,
Or prais'd thy wondrous name;
Thy bliss (O sacred Spring of life!)
And glory was the same.

And when the pillars of the world
With sudden ruin break,

H

And all this vast and goodly frame
Sinks in the mighty wreck;

When from her orb the moon shall start,
The astonish'd sun roll back,
While all the trembling starry lamps

Their ancient course forsake;

For ever permanent and fix'd,
From agitation free,
Unchang'd in everlasting years
Shall thy existence be.

The Universal Prayer.

FATHER of all, in every age,
In every clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou great First Cause, least understood,
Who all my sense confin'd
To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind;

Yet gave me in this dark estate
To see the good from ill;
And binding Nature fast in Fate,
Left free the human will.

What Conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,

This, teach me more than hell to shun,
That, more than Heav'n pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not cast away;

For God is paid when Man receives;
To enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of Man,

When thousand worlds are round:

Let not this weak unknowing hand
Presume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, O teach my heart
To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's wo,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholely so,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;

O lead me wheresoe'er I go,

Through this day's life or death.

This day be bread and peace my lot;
All else beneath the sun,
Thou knowest if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.

To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies!

One chorus let all being raise !
All nature's incense rise!

The Messiah.

YE nymphs of Solyma! begin the song,
To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades,
The dreams of Pindus, and the Aönian maids,