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though researches have been made with the most energetic zeal, the mystery of their beginning and ending is likely to keep its secret. In addition to the bats and fish that inhabit the cave, there are, it is said, numberless rats, but our authority appends to his statement the fact that he never saw any of them.

In one of the passages a nest was found some years ago, containing some walnutshells, and resembling a rat's nest, but it may have been brought from the upper world by some stream; and in another branch was found a tooth, resembling a beaver's, which may have been brought in the same way.

Human bones have been dug up in the cave, and numerous Indian relics discovered; and this suggests the interesting probability of its having been, at some remote period, inhabited by them.

It is the opinion of Dr. Bird, that it was actually inhabited by the Red-men, as no frequency of visits, however much of a lion it may have been among them, justifies the numberless vestiges they have left."There are," he says, "vast quantities of half-burned, broken canes lying among the rocks of the chief city;" and it appears they are scattered in greater or less profusion throughout the cave. These, Dr. Bird argues, are the remains of torches and fires. Some of the canes are tied together with strips of young hickory bark, into fagots. The interstices of the rocks, he says, are stuck full of them; and though thousands of fires have been built of them to light up the cave, from time to time, there is no probability of their becoming exhausted, and enough for an illumination can be collected in five minutes.

These canes, it seems, grow in large quantities on the banks of the rivers in the neighborhood of the cave. Besides the torches, there have been found stone arrow-heads, axes, hammers, and pieces of pottery, with moccasins, blankets of woven bark, and other Indian valuables. There are some remains of artificial walls in the grand gallery, which mere visitors evidently would not have taken the pains to build; and the fact that whole floors have been cleared of rocks and other rubbish, is a strong supposition in favor of its having been inhabited. The walls, in some of the rooms, have been picked and beaten smooth with stone-hammers, and rocks are found entirely separated from

the adhering earth, and carefully heaped up into tables. Every nook seems to have been penetrated, and bears still such memorials as the prints of naked feet and moccasins in the moist clay and sand of the floors; fragments of torches, long ropes, and withes of hickory bark, all arguing in favor of its having once been inhabited.

But the torches have long since gone out; and, however interesting the subject they suggest, they throw no light upon it. Perhaps the imagination kindles nowhere so readily as among the pits and caverns of the earth; for fairy people, and awful giants, ferocious animals, and, in fact, all the terrible creatures of the elements, naturally resort to those places where no honest sunshine comes; and the Mammoth Cave has its share of legendary marvels. There are supposed to be in its vicinity caves without number, to which there is no entrance from the upper world; here and there the roof of one has fallen in, and revealed the secret; and sometimes unwary travelers have been precipitated into such of them as are only roofed over by a thin layer of soil. There is a story of one gentleman, who, finding himself sinking thus, saved himself by leaping from his horse, that, sinking to a depth of fifty feet, became wedged among the rocks, and perished. In the same way, a planter, who was riding over his grounds, saved himself and lost his horse, except that in this case the poor animal sank to a spacious cavern, where he walked about until he was starved to death.

But it is time to leave the Mammoth Cave, with all its wonders, real and imaginary, and come back to the sunshine, where

"Murders, treasons, and detested sins,

The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,

Stand bare and naked, trembling at them

selves."

And, doubtless, the reader who has accompanied me in my dark pilgrimage, is prepared to say with King Richard:

"I weep for joy To stand upon my kingdom once again. Dear earth! I do salute thee with my hand, Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs:

As a long-parted mother with her child
Plays fondly with her tears,
And smiles in meeting;

So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth."

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COLIN AND LUCY.

HIS ballad, which is the composition

"Leinster" and "Liffy's limpid stream." It was printed in the "Reliques of Ancient English Poetry," by Bishop Percy, who states, "It is a tradition in Ireland that this song was written at Castletown, in the county of Kildare, at the request of the then Mrs. Conolly, probably on some event recent in that neighborhood." But, according to Dr. Walsh's "History of the City of Dublin," the ballad is said to have been composed at Glasnevin, now the famous Botanic Garden

THIS which is the of Addison, adjacent to that city.

of
bears evidence of having been written
in Ireland; but it is in no degree Irish,
except in the reference it makes to

This conjecture is by no means improbable, for here Tickell resided; the plans, as they still exist, were formed un

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den originally formed part of Tickell's demesne, and was purchased for a sum of £2,000 from his representative.

The neighborhood of this garden may truly be said to be classic ground: adjacent to it is Hampstead, formerly noted as the residence of Sir Richard Steele; in the next parish lived Parnell, who was Vicar of Finglas; not far off was the mansion of Dr. Delaney, where the best days of Dean Swift were passed; and in the house of Tickell Addison was a continual guest. It is, therefore, more than likely that here was written the ballad of Colin and Lucy,

a ballad that has long been, and continues to be, in high favor with all who appre

ciate genuine

and

natural poetry. Tickell's residence in Ireland was, however, accidental. He was born in 1686, at Bridekirk, in Cumberland. A complimentary poem, which he addressed to Mr. Addison on his grand "Opera of Rosamond," immediately attracted the attention of that distinguished man, and led to an intimacy very beneficial to the one and satisfactory to the other. Their friendship continued during the life of Addison, and was of value af

ter his death. Tickell had the charge of publishing his works; and received from him a solemn recommendation to the patronage of Craggs, a recommendation which had the effect of continuing him in the office of under-secretary of state, to

which Mr. Addison had appointed him. He afterward, however, became secretary to the lords' justices of Ireland, a very lucrative situation, which he held till his death in 1740. He is said to have been a man of most pleasing and gentlemanly manners, and of unquestioned integrity; his conversation was gay and lively, and he was "at least a temperate lover of wine and conviviality." Literature was his relaxation, and not his business. Through all his poetry, according to the quaint expression of Goldsmith, "there is a strain of pure BALLAD THINKING to be found;" and probably to this rare quality much of his popularity may be attributed; for in his own time it was by no means inconsiderable. With the exception of his "Lines on the death of Addison," and his pathetic tale of "Colin and Lucy," his works are now generally forgotten. The elegy addressed "to the Earl of Warwick, on the death

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assertion that he was indebted to the tasteful and judicious touches of his friend for much of the merit of his earlier productions. In this tribute to his memory he could have had no such assistance.

Or Leinster, famed for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream
Reflect so fair a face.

Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rosy hue,
Her coral lip, and damask cheek,
And eyes of glossy blue.

O! have you seen a lily pale,
When beating rains descend?
So droop'd the slow-consuming maid;
Her life now near its end.

By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair:

Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjured swains beware.

Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;

And at her window, shrieking thrice,
The raven flapp'd his wing.

Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The solemn boding sound;
And thus, in dying words, bespoke

The virgins weeping round.

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"I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says I must not stay:
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.

"By a false heart, and broken vows, In early youth I die.

Am I to blame, because his bride
Is thrice as rich as I?

"Ah, Colin! give not her thy vows; Vows due to me alone:

Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kiss, Nor think him all thy own. "To-morrow in the church to wed,

Impatient, both prepare;

But know, fond maid, and know, false man,
That Lucy will be there.

"Then, bear my corse, ye comrades, bear,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He and his wedding-trim so gay,
I in my winding sheet."

She spoke, she died; her corse was borne,
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding-trim so gay,
She in her winding-sheet.

Then what were perjured Colin's thoughts?
How were those nuptials kept?
The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.

Confusion, shame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell:
The damps of death bedew'd his brow,
He shook, he groan'd, he fell.

From the vain bride (ah, bride no more!)
The varying crimson fled,
When, stretch'd before her rival's corse,
She saw her husband dead.
Then to his Lucy's new-made grave,
Convey'd by trembling swains,
One mould with her beneath one sod,
Forever he remains.

Oft at their grave the constant hind
And plighted maid are seen;
With garlands gay, and true-love knots,
They deck the sacred green.
But, swain forsworn, whoe'er thou art,
This hallow'd spot forbear;
Remember Colin's dreadful fate,

And fear to meet him there.

The above lines call to mind the wellknown and long-favored ballad of" Barbara Allen's Cruelty," published by Dr. Percy from an old black letter copy. In that case it was the lady who was faithless, and the lover who was broken-hearted. There is, however, more natural painting, a higher poetic feeling, in the ballad of "Colin and Lucy." In its style and imagery, indeed, it is an exquisite example of the comparatively modern ballad; less simply and "naïvely" effective than the ancient method, but equally touching, pathetic, and true to nature.

TREBIZONDE.

ПREBIZONDE, the ancient Trapezus,

on

where the memorable Ten Thousand reached the sea, is one of the principal cities of a mountainous country lying or the coast of the Black Sea, extending from the eastern limits of Anatolia to Caucasia. The surrounding country is delved into steep valleys, or bristled with rugged hills, whose summits are, during a portion of the year, covered with snow, while the coast presents a charming succession of small bays.

Such a configuration of country sufficiently accounts for the difference of climate, perceptible at even a few miles' distance; for, while the temperature of the valleys in winter is mild and agreeable, the hilly country is almost uninhabitable. A succession of snow-storms succeed each other during several months, and the spring is far advanced before tillage is rendered practicable. Wheat, barley, and maize are, however, easily raised; while in the more genial valleys the vine, the fig, and the orange luxuriate in primitive vigor. The hill-sides present numerous forests, under whose shadows roam flocks of sheep and goats, and many a bee-hive is well stored from its richly-carpeted river banks and prairies.

The principal commerce of the inhabitants of the coast consists of fishing, which is more abundant here than on any part of the Black Sea; and with which even the markets of Constantinople are supplied, while in the interior of the country, a considerable trade is carried on in honey and beeswax.

The importance of Trebizonde seems to have been apparent at the remotest period of its history. The agreeable aspect of the hill on which it is built, its peculiar adaptation as a port, and its situation as outlet of one of the most fertile portions of Asia, must have greatly influenced the choice of its first colonizers, who, according to Greek historians, were attracted thither from Sinope. At an early period it fell into the hands of the kings of Pontus, who were in turn conquered by the Romans. For several centuries it was known merely as a commercial city; but, in 1203, after the taking of Constantinople by the French, it suddenly issued from its obscurity by the will of Alexis

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