VISIT TO THE GROTTO OF ANTIPAROS.

January 15th, 1830.-HAVING formed a party from our ship, the Melville, while stationed at Paros, to explore the penetralia of this celebrated cavern, we set off about six o'clock, A. M., each person mounted on a sturdy mule, and proceeded towards Parrechia, the capital of the island.

The morning was delicious, the air bland and delightful, as in the month of May in England; all nature smiled around; the flowers, bathed in dew, shed their choicest perfumes to regale the senses; and the bright green of the numerous corn-fields relieved the eye from the excessive glare of the marble-strewed path over which we bent our steps. The exhilarating influence of the morning breeze had also an enlivening effect on our mules, who snuffed it up with evident delight, and trotted along the wretched road with unwonted vigour.

In two hours we reached Parrechia; went to the house of our friend the Consul, where, after much ado, we procured ropes, and two or three small crazy ladders, to assist us in the descent; hired a boat rowed by four powerful young Greeks, and were soon gliding along the marblebound shores of Paros. Two hours had hardly elapsed, when we landed in a pretty little sandy bay, in the island of Antiparos. Having hauled the boat up, and loaded its crew with the matériel for the day's campaign, we immediately directed our steps towards a small town, about a mile distant. The road lay principally over rocks of pure white marble, interspersed with several species of beautiful shrubs, wild flowers, and numerous tufts of highly aromatic herbs, wherever the least soil was visible.

We soon arrived at the town, as our boatmen called it, which may contain about sixty miserable hovels, and between two and three hundred equally miserable inhabitants. How often, when musing on the present unhappy condition of this once-celebrated country, we were tempted to exclaim with Byron,

"Shrine of the mighty, can it be

That this is all remains of thee!"

A narrow, dirty, and vile-smelling alley conducted us to the house of the great man of the place, which we found literally crammed with a large party of midshipmen belonging to one of our ships, who had returned from the grotto the previous evening, and had taken up their nocturnal abode in this wretched apology for an inn. Never was such a din heard before !-all talkers and no listeners! Some of the party were vociferating for this thing, another for that. In a sequestered part of the room, seen dimly through eddying columns of smoke, were discovered a group lolling at their ease on a kind of divan, somewhat the worse for wear, solacing themselves with long. Turkish pipes, and sipping coffee at intervals, which was ever and anon replenished by a sylph-like little damsel, whose long dishevelled hair hanging about, in the very luxuriance of nature, partially shaded her interesting and classical features. In another part, the more juvenile portion of the company were amusing themselves with tearing the clothes from off each other's backs, pour passer le temps; while, to add to the noise and confusion, not less than twenty ragged-looking natives were trying to extort as

many dollars as the young Englishmen would give them for their various specimens of natural curiosities. What a Babel of tongues ensued!-what contortions were had recourse to, to enable them to understand each other! Our pilot, a Greek, who made one of our party, raised his voice, though for some time in vain, to endeavour to quell this wordy war, that he might ask the man of the house some questions concerning our descent. At length he gained a hearing, and no sooner was our purpose known, than some ten or a dozen ruffian-looking fellows volunteered their services as our guides; but as we could not agree to the necessity of having so many, or the sum of money they demanded, we walked out of the house, but were hardly outside of the town, when we perceived four men following us, who soon agreed to our terms, packed up the provisions, ropes, and ladders, and in a few minutes the whole party were amicably walking on towards the grotto; now traversing fertile valleys partially covered with corn, with here and there a solitary fig-tree or olive, to break the uniformity of the scene; now climbing high jagged marble hills, clothed with stunted bushes. At length, after a tramp of about six honest miles, over hill, dale, and mountain, we arrived at this far-famed cavern, which is situated about a mile from the sea, on the declivity of a high hill composed of shining white marble.

We soon discovered the gloomy entrance, over which projected a noble arched roof, formed by enormous masses of marble, from which depended a vast number of brambles and creepers, adding not a little to the solemn grandeur of the scene. This magnificent roof is apparently supported by several gigantic stalactites, or stalagmites; one of the largest resembles a rudely ornamented Gothic pillar; another had the appearance of a vast colossal statue, which seems to forbid all ingress to this majestic cavern, over the door of which the traveller might fancy he reads the well-known lines of the immortal Dante,

"Per me si va nella città dolente,

Per me si va nell' eterno dolore."

Our guides having adjusted the rope and ladders, and each person being provided with a wax taper, we commenced the descent, the first portion of which led through a long narrow alley, lined on either side with crystallizations glittering like precious stones. It was necessary to keep fast hold of the rope, as the declivity became extremely abrupt, and the path was covered with loose stones, which caused us to slip several times during the descent.

At the extremity of this narrow passage was discovered a perpendicular precipice, about twelve feet deep, down which we slid by the rope with comparative ease; when at the bottom, we proceeded over enormous masses of marble rock, which were incrusted with various-coloured crystals, as were also the sides and ceiling, producing a brilliant effect, viewed by the light of so many torches and candles. Beyond us yawned a terrible abyss!-a sight sufficiently horrible to any but persons possessed of strong nerves; however, led by our fearless guides, we skirted along the brink of the awful gulf, hardly daring to look up to admire the gloriously carved roof, or the beautiful seeming pillars richly sculptured, which in some places almost touched the noble arch above us, so intent were we, lest by one false step we might have been

precipitated into the gloomy cavern beneath! After traversing a considerable distance, much in the same way as above described, we arrived at another very abrupt descent; here our guides had contrived to fix a ladder, down which the party got with perfect safety. From this spot the rope became no longer of any use, owing to the tortuous nature of the cavern, which prevented its being adjusted. However, we often missed it in our further descent, particularly in one spot, where our way lay along the edge of an enormous mass of rocks, which hung over a frightful bottom, dark as Erebus! Here we were constrained to grasp firmly with our hands the stalactites which adhered to the rocks, to assist us in our perilous passage. Having passed this nervous portion of the journey, we got on very comfortably, with the exception of one or two difficult but not dangerous passes over the rocks which obstructed the path. The remaining portion of the descent was over a shelving road, composed of loose stones, down which we oftentimes were hurried much faster than was pleasant. This route finally conducted the party to an area, where we remained some minutes, while the guides illuminated the grand chamber, which we soon entered.

But how can I express the wonder and astonishment we experienced when viewing for the first time this magic temple! To give the reader some idea of its magnificence, let him fancy himself in a vast saloon, about 120 yards in length by 113 yards in breadth, and somewhere about sixty in height; now let him picture such a hall, hung round with thousands of brilliant white stalactites and stalagmites, assuming every variety of form that the most fertile imagination can conceive, and then he will have only a faint idea of the transcendently splendid scene! The glorious fretted roof, in various parts, is seemingly supported by slender and delicate-carved columns, somewhat like those seen in fine specimens of Saracenic architecture; others, of larger dimensions, are more rudely chiselled, resembling those erected by our Saxon

ancestors.

Scattered about the immense floor are seen huge stalactitical masses, bearing some slight resemblance to so many gigantic statues; nearly in the centre stands a ponderous stalagmite, which is very much like an altar in a Roman Catholic church; fancy sees the high and richlywrought pillars on either side; the lofty and slender candlesticks elaborately chased,-in short, all the articles which usually adorn such places. Tourneforte says he had mass performed on it, so impressed was he with the resemblance. We thought we could never sufficiently adınire this splendid work of nature, in which she seems to laugh to scorn the more formal and comparatively insignificant works of art.

To give a fine coup d'œil, we burnt a blue light, which completely illuminated the whole of this magnificent temple in a most beautiful manner. Viewed by this harmonious light, the wondrous cavern somewhat resembled what the reader might fancy would be the effect, could he see a fine Gothic cathedral, with all its internal decorations studded with various precious stones, and lighted up for some high festival.

Having collected several beautiful specimens, we began to re-ascend, a process, although less dangerous than the descent, decidedly much more tiresome; and we were greatly exhausted from the fatigue and heat we experienced while eg the recesses of this extraordinary

ROUGH SKETCHES OF MALTA AND LONDON.

BY A MALTESe, late an oFFICER IN THE MALTESE REGIMENT.

LONDON, 1835.

[WE give the following, in continuation of the "Sketches of Malta and London," of which the former appeared in our last, as a Foreigner's view of our metropolis.]

Two sentiments, of a different nature, although proceeding from the same source-a lively affection for this my second country,-have given origin to the present description. Called by my private affairs last autumn to this capital of the civilized world, I no longer delay offering to my several friends whom their extreme kindness and my own good fortunes have led me to find in the bosom of this generous community, a mark of gratitude for their benevolence, and a tribute of admiration for the stupendous grandeur of their metropolis.

On the other side, the numerous opportunities which my circumstances have afforded me during my abode here, together with an extensive acquaintance, have given me some knowledge of the character and inclinations of the people of England in their social relations with foreign countries, and have suggested to me several observations on this subject, which, I trust, will not be useless or unpleasant to my countrymen,-whether Maltese or British: but without further preface, and without much order or pretension, I commence them.

The spectacle which the city of London presents to a foreigner on his first visit, is of a species entirely new, and superior to all that the mind accustomed to the uniform magnificence and conventional aspect of most of the capitals on the continent can well imagine. The first sentiment of the observer is more likely to be amazement than admiration. The grandeur, which in the first cities in other parts of Europe is always confined to particular edifices and institutions, is in London made common, as it were, in all parts of the city, and extended through the ordinary employments and manners of the people. The immense wealth of the capitalists, the glorious constitution of the English Government, and the enterprise of the nation, have enabled them to amass within the confines of this happy land, all that is necessary for them in order to extend and add to the grandeur of their metropolis; and neither the Government nor the citizens are ever found backward in putting into execution their immense projects of improvement. The spirit of association has done, as if by enchantment, that which was considered impossible. Before this new power all difficulties vanish; the plans which the vulgar were accustomed for ages to call chimerical, are now transformed to reality; and the genius of the English no longer finds anything impossible, but that which exceeds the limits of nature.

What thing, in fact, can you possibly figure to yourself more stupendous than the nocturnal illumination of London, and the hydraulic system, which affords to every inhabitant the means of procuring from any part of his house a durable supply of pure and salubrious water? What idea can the most highly extolled views of the first capitals give to a stranger, of that on entering London by night, when the light is

precipitated in a moment from the infinite windings of its thousand conductors, overflowing unexpectedly all its apertures, and illuminating every angle of this immense city. The panorama of so many large and populous streets, illuminated by this interminable chain of lights; the sumptuousness of the shops-displaying, in competition, their riches in a sea of light-their order and number, the reflections of azure, violet, and purple of the coloured vases; the splendour of the quadrants; the several illuminated clocks, which at a distance resemble light-houses, placed on steeples and public establishments. The thousands of carriages and public vehicles that drive continually through the streets, the numbers of fine horses full of life and activity,-the incessant murmur of a crowd, collected from all parts of the globe, flocking on the broad pavements,-the noise of wheels,-the exclamations of conductors, the sonorous voice of singers,-the sound of musical instruments, sometimes not the most delicately tuned,-the mingling tide of so many things,-the brilliant illumination of this splendid scene, all contribute to intoxicate the senses of the stranger, and make him believe he is transported to an enchanted country.

After the system of illumination, the hydraulic operation is, amidst all the wonders of London, that which, perhaps, most distinguishes it above all the capitals of the world. Without entering into a minute description, which is alien to the nature of the present sketch, I shall content myself by merely stating that the water which abounds in all parts of London is conveyed by ineans of vast tubes, which extend over a space of three hundred miles, and to these grand arteries smaller tubes are attached, which distribute the water to each house. The management of this well-regulated distribution is confided to several companies, who employ for this purpose a number of steam-engines of a prodigious force, capable of furnishing every day more than five millions of cubic feet of water. By this ingenious system, the destruction of property by fire in London is more easily controlled than elsewhere, as by means of an aperture made in the upper side of every pipe that passes under by the causeway, the street where a fire has unhappily occurred, may, opening the plug in such aperture become instantly flooded and the water entering the pipe of an engine is thrown upon the fire in sufficient abundance and constancy to overcome it.

Among the innumerable edifices which adorn London, I will restrain myself to a rapid and successive mention only of the most remarkable, as an exact description of each would extend beyond the limits which I have assigned to myself. The Palace of St. James, noted above all as having been for ages the residence of the Kings of England, is situated to the north of the park of the same name: its exterior is simple, and does not give the least idea of the royal magnificence with which the inside is decorated. On a slight elevation, at the extreme end of the same park, is now building the superb Palace of Buckingham, the future habitation of English monarchs; the roof and columns of which are of iron, and of which the imposing front overlooks the park gardens. On all sides its embellishments are of a most simple elegance. Next to this I have to mention the Tower of London, an ancient and vast fortress, which was for several centuries the abode of the Kings; and, also, at times, a state prison. Here is, also, a much-admired maritime arsenal, and a rare collection of armour. The armoury of the Volun