to a woman who appeared on the door steps, and who received us with a volley of patois. Mr. M., acting as interpreter, explained to her that we all wished to go ‘darunter,' pointing out of the window. Following the direction of his hand, I saw a hole in the side of the mountain, the much wished for trap-door at last! Mr. M. now disappeared; and the woman proceeded, much to our alarm and horror, to fasten the door on the inside, and then to deprive us of our bonnets, shawls, watches, and travelling dresses, and to array us in long baggy trousers of whitey-brown linen into which all petticoats were tucked, and over this a blouse of the same with a leathern belt. Our adornment was completed by a close-fitting leathern cap and thick gauntlets. Most comical we looked, and vainly did we entreat to be allowed to retain at least a loose wrapping shawl before venturing out again. The tyrannical woman either did not or would not understand a word, but with another volley of patois carried off all our things in a bundle into another room, and showed us out of the house. But there in front, lounging near the entrance to the mountain, was the queerest little figure, (one of the Bergfolke?) in a whitish dress and cap with a flap behind, too odd to describe. We could not go out with that object there to look at us-oh! where was Mr. M., and what would become of us?

Just as we were looking at each other in despair, the figure suddenly turned round, gazed fixedly at us for a minute, and then burst into a fit of laughter, rubbing his gauntleted hands with delight. It was-yes, it was—Mr. M., and no wonder we had not recognized each other in such a disguise. Enduring his criticism as best we might, we set forth to the entrance of the mine, where we were joined by three stalwart fellows in ́similar costume. Each constituted himself guide and protector to one of us, and presented us with a candle similar to one he held himself; and so we entered the mountain walking in single file. The grotesqueness of the whole scene cannot be imagined—the strange dress, the flaring lights, the broken grumbling patois occasionally exchanged by the men, the certainty that we were turning our backs on light and liberty, and exploring unknown recesses of the earth.

Deeper and deeper we penetrated, in silence. And how were we to breathe there?' do you inquire; without oxygen, without sunlight, which alone makes air wholesome,' &c. We didn't know, we don't know to this day! Perhaps we didn't breathe; 'breathless astonishment,' 'breathless suspense,' and 'breathless admiration,' are acknowledged states of mind; and each of these succeeded the others so rapidly in our adventures, that I think the probability is we did not breathe at all! and that is why the difficulties on this head, which perplex my scientific friend, never occurred to us once. In silent procession we moved on along a smooth and slightly declining pathway; the rock over our heads varying in colour and grain, but the salt crystals, for which it is worked, glittering out brightly as the lights flashed by. The passage was roofed, it is true, with rough timbers, but between them you saw the rock salt,

with its veins of rich dark red, or a brighter hue, sometimes grey or yellow. Remembering how fruits from fairy gardens had once turned out precious stones, I felt an intense desire to appropriate some of this sparkling treasure; but I had been warned that it was unlawful to do so, and that every poor mortal was searched. Besides which, there was no receptacle anywhere about our tight-fitting garments for concealing such, no pocket, even our very handkerchiefs had to be tucked into our belts! Nevertheless, impelled by an irresistible curiosity, I contrived to clutch at several pieces of more than ordinary brightness, and carried them unperceived on the ledge of my candle.

After tramping on some way, we suddenly halted, though the gallery continued-nay, branched out extensively, as it seemed, in different directions. Here many dim figures, in miner's dresses, each with a murky light somewhere about him, appeared in distant recesses. A mysterious conference took place between the guides in front.

'What a place for robbery and murder!' the thought would rush on the mind. What horrible deeds might not ere this have been done in these realms of darkness! What power of resistance had we? or who could ever know our fate? Had these men fire-arms perchance? How awful would be the report of a single gun down in these solitary passages! enough to madden one to think of! But hold! what are they doing in front? Mr. M. and his guide disappear suddenly, lights and all, gone! but where? We move on, and I become aware of a yawning gulf close to our path; Mrs. M. informs me that her husband is gone down there, and she intends to follow him! This is darunter' indeed!

With the pluck of a true Englishwoman, and a sort of intuitive comprehension of her guide's wishes, Mrs. M. places herself behind him as desired, and somehow shoots downwards into darkness. I am left alone with my guide, and the jabbering men around, and look down trembling to see twinkling lights disappearing. In order to understand this mode of transit, I must beg of my readers to imagine a very long very smooth trough very slightly hollowed, and wide enough to sit in comfortably. There are grooves for the feet down the sides, and a rope made fast above and below is stretched down the right hand side. Imagine this trough or plank set against the side of a house at a very steep incline, like that of a ladder almost, and yourself on the roof about to embark in it, and you will have some idea of this style of locomotion, only it would take many houses one on the top of another to make a descent as long as this was! My guide sat down at the top, holding the rope firmly in his right hand, by grasping which more or less tightly, and leaning more or less backwards, he was to regulate the pace of descent. Then letting himself down a little, he signaled to me to place myself above him, my feet in the grooves, my knees resting on his back, and holding the rope in one hand, the lighted candle in the other. And thus we shot down into darkness, and quick as lightning were fathoms below! It was very exciting, but not unpleasant; the motion gave none of the sensation of falling, yet

was delightfully smooth and easy. It is impossible to describe one's sensations at first getting a bird's eye view of one's friends below, and then descending pounce like an eagle among them.

We then walked on, through a narrow gallery as before, the rock becoming more brilliant with crystals, and perforated with innumerable passages, like a rabbit warren. Again we shoot down into darkness, and commence a fresh perambulation on a lower level. The sound of running streams comes to our ears; these, we are told, are subterranean rivers for conveying brine to a great reservoir. Another descent! yet another! The darkness and stillness were becoming oppressively monotonous, when suddenly, as we emerged from a narrow gallery, we stood upon the edge of a lake black as Styx. The rock arched darkly overhead, the gloomy depth spread out below it; no light of day, no beam of sunshine, had ever gladdened those waters, no free wind passed over them; there they lay, a death power to vegetation, without even marine growths, yet incorruptible from their very nature. Around those dim shores torches were placed at intervals, and faintly illuminated the waters. Each of these torches, with its reflection in the water below, seemed to glow with an unearthly glare, and only render more visible the darkness which brooded over the rest of the scene. There was something in its whole aspect unlike all other, bringing flooding over one a stream of undefined sensations and memories and thoughts-poetical fables, Charon and his boat, Dante's land of disembodied spirits, Bunyan's valley of the shadow of death; while even the old familiar words of Scripture seemed brought home, with a fuller realization of their significance, by our awful surroundings, as with a strange half doubt whether some mysterious change had not passed over us, we could yet rest in the thought that the strong foundations of the earth are the Lord's, that even the mountains and the hills which covered us never conceal His enemies, nor shut out His children from the care of His Right Hand. A 'great gulf fixed' in the middle of the earth, a place of darkness and silence, it was indeed; the gloomy rocks in deepest shade around and above, would here and there assume fantastic and fearful forms. By-and-by a boat guided by a dim figure came gliding between the still waters below, and the slimy damp gravelike rocks which hung above. Into this boat we all stepped, and were launched upon the lake. The impression the first sight had made, did not pass away as we crossed it in silence.

On the opposite bank we found some silent figures waiting to return by the way we had come; and we watched the boat put off again into darkness, and gazed with a strange fascination for the last time on that melancholy scene. Then turning, we found ourselves under the guidance of a hearty young fellow who seemed to preside over this part of this interior of the mountain. We breathed more freely as we turned away from the lake; and as they say 'the sublime is but a step from the ridiculous,' so it proved here, and that step was at once taken. For nothing would serve this lusty imp of the mountain, but that we should

all mount on a long form on wheels, which ran on a kind of tram-road, along a narrow gallery. Remonstrances, and hints that we would rather walk, were alike thrown away, the despotic ruler would be obeyed. The absurdity of the command effectually diverted our spirits from somewhat oppressive thoughts, and eventually we all mounted, one behind another, feeling very much as if the days of romping childhood were come over again, and this was a gigantic infernal hobby-horse; when, lo! the creature set off at such a pace! The imp was pulling it, running as hard as he could go, faster than any mere mortal boy could have run; round went the wheels clattering and rattling, our candles were nearly blown out by the draught. Slower-surely we are going up hill-slower still. What is that before us in the far distance? a light calm, cool, steady; is it, can it be the blessed daylight? But it is gone again, the road slopes downwards, the impish guide scampers faster than ever, dragging his extraordinary train clattering at his heels. But a change in the atmosphere gradually makes itself felt, a light again in front; it grows, it widens, we rush towards it, our hearts beat high with joy, and in a moment we dash out of the side of the mountain into the broad daylight; where, deafened, shaken, dazzled, and utterly bewildered, we find ourselves on our queer conveyance sitting under the calm clear light of the setting sun. As we recover ourselves and dismount, how lovely does everything appear! From the bottom of the heart wells up the feeling,

'I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast made
This earth so bright.'

Never before had we prized the sunlight as now, when it streamed down its parting rays on the beautiful forest-clad heights above us; and we gazed till the colours faded away. And here comes the very woman we saw before! was it to-day, or last week, or a hundred years ago? Who could say? such strange things had we seen since! But we gladly resumed with her assistance our familiar bonnets and dresses, and discarded the uncouth costume, which had however enabled us to make the expedition in safety. With kindly acknowledgements to the good Hill-folk, we wended our way thoughtfully into the town, for we had come out at the base of the mountain, having literally been right through it!

W.

LES INSOMNIES, LES INSOMNIES.

'O gentle sleep, how have I frighted thee?'—Henry IV.

'KEEP a thing seven years, and you'll find use for it; and if you don't then, why, keep it for another seven; it will be sure to come in for something.'

That was one of our dear old Nurse's sayings. I think I hear her

now, with the slight touch of Dorsetshire in her tone, that makes Barnes's beautiful little poems all the dearer to me for her sake.

And I have just had a proof of the truth of this particular saying of hers, which I feel inclined to write down for the benefit of Louisa and Charlie, Tom, Albert, and Annie, Margaret, and little Ada-my god-children; some of whom may think they have done with the Church Catechism now that they are confirmed; and some, who are still learning it, may wonder of what use it will be to them in that dim Future, which is so vast as we look forward, so little as we look back.

My nerve had been a good deal tried, by a severe shock first, and afterwards by the sudden commencement of great anxiety, continued for some days. When this ceased, with the reaction came a degree of excitement, that brought restless wakeful nights. A general disturbance of the system,'-so said the family doctor—a want of harmony, in short, between the mind or Brains, and that which Xavier de Maistre calls la bête, and Owen Meredith, still less civilly, 'the untamed beast;' but which I prefer to call-as Pascal did, and as Plato did before him-' that other One.'

The Ego, that should have held the balance between the contending powers, was at her wits' end; and as one way of obtaining at least a truce, on one memorable night, on which the doctor had desired an opiate to be tried, she had ordered that other one' to read, and the Brains to attend to, some good and thoughtful book; for if the watches of the night are not spent, as they should be, in sleep, they are too precious, and too solemn, for any but the best kind of books. And for a short while there was a truce; till suddenly-nobody can tell how -the Brains recalled a letter received that day from a young subaltern, in sultry Gib,' in which he had said, 'Poor is very ill, and has not been able to sleep for a month.' A whole month of restlessness like this! and that other One rolled over, trying in vain to find a cool place on the pillows. 'Ay,' quoth the Brains, and did not B say

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in his letter, "What fun the cousins will have at the Exhibition, and how they will astonish the natives of R- with the bonnets they will bring back from Paris." To be sure they will. Alexander of

Macedon had one-no, nonsense; it was not Parisian; there was no Paris then. Paris was dead, and Troy was done for, long before his time. But anyhow, he had a bonnet of a lion's head-there's his picture in Crabbe's Historical Dictionary; fancy Beatrice in a tom-cat bonnet-a 'a capote fourré à la Russe,' it should be called-no, a 'chapeau du chat Thomas.' It would read sweetly in Le Follet, 'Ces charmants petits chapeaux sont très à la mode; les deux pattes de devant s'arrangent sur le front; les deux pattes de derrière restent sur le chignon et la queue pend d'un coté avec une grace inouie.' And wouldn't the Sunday-school children take her for Bogie himself!

Vainly the Ego endeavoured to stop this torrent of nonsense, all the VOL. 6.

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PART 31.