here was
little space for reflection; and though, by this time, I shrewdly
suspect most of the party had pretty well "satisfied the sentiment," as
Sterne says, none were heard to say so; and after a short delay we
pushed on again, apparently regardless of danger. Our progress, however,
became every moment more and more difficult and discouraging; for this
rude and imperfect staircase, also slippery as ice, was covered with
loose stones, that came rattling down on our devoted heads at every
false step of those above; and many who had eagerly contested at the
outset for the distinction of leading the party, would now have gladly
made an inglorious retreat rearward, to escape the contusions, or
something worse, with which they were momentarily threatened; convinced,
with Falstaff, that "honour hath no skill in surgery."

[Sidenote: PETRIFIED GARDEN.] After remaining for a few minutes
suspended from the cord, like a cluster of bees in the act of swarming,
we again found ourselves on _terra firma_; and a passage behind some
masses of projecting rock brought me to a platform, in front of which
rose a stalagmite, admirably adapted by its position for the display of
my fireworks. Accordingly I let off a blue-light, which illuminated the
grotto beneath, the arches of which were of immense size; and their vast
ribs, protruding from the rock, and extending to a great height, formed
a magnificent dome, from which hung innumerable concretions of pointed
form. Masses of crystallised limestone grew from the floor in every
shape that fancy could picture. There were trees, teeth, flowers,
houses, men, &c.: in short, imagination never could exhaust itself in
pointing out resemblances between these phenomena, and the ordinary
productions of nature and art.

The predominance of the figures of trees, plants, and flowers among
these fantastical creations, gives to the whole grotto the appearance of
a petrified garden; but it was no slight drawback on our gratification
to find these objects covered with slime and mud, obscuring the
brilliant ever-changing hues of the myriads of crystals with which they
are studded, and which former travellers have alluded to in terms of
admiration. It was only when the blue flame shed its beautiful light
upon the scene, that it at all realised my preconceived ideas of this
"Palace of the genii, the most beautiful of fairy land," as it has been
frequently styled.

By a ladder fastened to the stalagmite, we