about seventy feet inclines considerably to the west, so as to prevent its course from being further traced. Notwithstanding the obstacles of the bushes and projecting masses of stone, it was sounded, and its depth found not to exceed two hundred and two feet-an estimate which corresponds with the assertion of three miners, who had descended in search of the bodies of individuals who were missing, and were supposed to have been robbed, murdered, and thrown into this frightful abyss.

PEAK CAVERN.

PEAK CAVERN, also called the Devil's Hole,is one of those magnificent, sublime, and extraordinary productions of nature, which constantly excite the wonder and admiration of their beholders. It has accordingly been considered one of the principal wonders of Derbyshire, and has been celebrated by several poets. It lies in the vicinity of Castleton, and is approached by a path at the side of a clear rivulet, leading to the fissure, or separation of the rock, at the extremity of which the cavern is situated. It would be difficult to imagine a scene more august than that which presents itself to the visitor at its entrance; on each side, the huge grey rocks rise almost perpendicularly, to the height of nearly three hundred feet, or about seven times the height of a modern house, and meeting each other at right or cross angles, form a deep gloomy recess. In front, it is over hung by a vast canopy of rock, assuming the appearance of a depressed arch, and extending, in width, one hundred and twenty feet; in height, forty-two; and in receding depth, about ninety. After penetrating about ninety feet into the cavern, the roof becomes lower, and a gentle descent leads, by a detached rock, to the interior entrance of this tremendous hollow. Here the light of day, having gradually diminished, wholly disappears; and the visitor is provided with a torch to illumine his further progress.

The progress now becoming extremly confined, he is obliged to proceed, in a stooping posture, about twenty yards, when he reaches a spacious opening, named the Bellhouse, and is thence led to a small lake, called the First Water, about forty feet in length, but not more than two or three feet in depth. Over this he is conveyed in a boat to

the interior of the cavern, beneath a massive vault of rock, which in some parts descends to within eighteen or twenty inches of the water. "We stood some time," says M. de St. Fond, "on the brink of this lake; and the light of our dismal torches, which emitted a black smoke, reflecting our pale images from its bottom, we almost conceived we saw a troop of spectres starting from an abyss to welcome us. The illusion was extremely striking."

On landing, the visitor enters a spacious vacuity, 220 feet in length 200 feet in breadth, and in some parts 120 feet in height, opening into the bosom of the rock; but, from the want of light, neither the distant sides nor the roof of this abyss, can be seen. In a passage at the inner extremity of this vast cave, the stream which flows through the whole length of the cavern, spreads into what is called the Second Water, and near its termination is a projecting pile of rocks, known by the appellation of Roger Rain's House, from the incessant fall of water in large drops through the crevices of the roofs. Beyond this, opens another tremendous hollow, called the Chancel, where the rocks are much broken, and the sides covered with stalactical or petrified incrustations. Here the visitor is surprised by a vocal concert which bursts in discordant tones from the upper regions of the chasm. "Still," observes a modern tourist, "This being unexpected, and issuing from a quarter where no object can be seen, in a place where all is still as death, is calculated to impress the imagination with solemn ideas, and can seldom be heard without that emotion of awe and pleasure, astonishment and delight, which is one of the most interesting feelings of the mind." At the conclusion of the strain, the choristers, who consist of eight or ten women and children, are seen ranged in the hollow of the rock, about fifty feet above the floor.

The path now leads to a place whimsically called the Devil's Cellar and Half-way House, and thence, by three natural and regular arches, to a vast concavity, which, from its uniform bell-like appearance, is called Great Tom of Lincoln. When illuminated by a strong light, this concavity has a very pleasing effect; the symmetrical disposition of the rocks, the stream flowing beneath, and the spiracles in the roof, forming a very interesting picture. From this

point the vault gradually descends, the passage contracts, and at length does not leave more than sufficient room for the current of the stream, which continues to flow through a subterraneous channel of several miles in extent, as is proved by the small stones brought into it after great rains, from the distant mines of the Peak Forest.

The entire length of this wonderful cavern is 2250 feet, nearly half a mile; and its depth, from the surface of the Peak mountain, about 620 feet. A curious effect is produced by the explosion of a small quantity of gunpowder, wedged into the rock in the interior of the cavern; for the sound appears to roll along the roof and sides, like a tremendous and continued peal of thunder. The effect of the light, on returning from these dark recesses, is particularly impressive; and the gradual illumination of the rocks, which becomes brighter as the entrance is approached, is said to exhibit one of the most interesting scenes that ever employed the pencil of an artist, or fixed the admiration of a spectator.

MAM TOR.

MAM TOR or the SHIVERING MOUNTAIN, is a huge precipice facing the east or south-east, chiefly composed of a peculiar kind of slate, which, although very hard before it is exposed to the air, very easily crumbles to dust on such exposure. Hence it is perpetually wasted by the action of the rain and snow; while the harder and larger masses of stone being thus loosened and disengaged, necessarily fall from their positions, and this with a rushing noise which is occasionally so loud as to be heard at Castleton, a distance of two miles. The valley beneath is overwhelmed with their fragments to the extent of half a mile. In many parts of the precipice, they produce, before their descent, a cavernous appearance, and even a romantic overhanging scenery, highly dangerous to be approached. It is affirmed by the most intelligent of the neighbouring inhabitants, that this mountain chiefly wastes during violent storms of snow and rain; and Mr. Martin, who published an account of Mam Tor, in the Philosophical Transactions for 1729, affirms, that the decay is not constantly the same. He not only surveyed it closely, but ascended the steepest part of the

precipice, without tracing any other shivering in the mountain, beside that which was occasioned by the treading of his feet in the loose crumbled earth.

THE EBBING AND FLOWING WELL.

In the vicinity of Chapel-en-le-Frith is a steep hill, rising to the height of more than a hundred feet, immediately beneath which this natural phenomenon lies. It is of an irregular form, but nearly approaching to a square, from two or three feet in depth, and about twenty feet in width.

Its ebbings and flowings are irregular, and dependent on the quantity of rain which falls in the different seasons of the year; when it begins to rise, the current can only be perceived by the slow movement of the blades of grass, or other light bodies floating on the surface; notwithstanding which, before the expiration of a minute, the water issues with a guggling noise, in considerable quantities, from several small apertures on the south and west sides. The interval of time between the ebbing and flowing is not always alike: consequently the proportion of water it discharges at different periods, also varies In the space of five minutes flowing, the water occasionally rises to the height of six inches; and, after remaining a few seconds stationary, the well assumes its former quiescent state.

The cause of the intermittent flowing of this well may be satisfactorily explained, on the principle of the action of the syphon, and on the supposition of a natural one communicating with a cavity in the hill, where the water may be supposed to accumulate ;-but for the phenomenon of its ebbing, no satisfactory reason has been assigned. The opinion of a second syphon, as ingenously advanced by a modern Tourist, which begins to act when the water rises, is inconsistent with the appearance of the well, and therefore cannot be just.

ST. ANNE'S WELL.

THIS Well, the usual resort of the company who frequent Buxton to drink the waters, has been classed among the wonders of the Peak, on account of this singularity—that within five feet of the hot spring by which it is supplied,

a cold one arises. This is not, however, the only well of the kind, since hot and cold springs rise near each other in many parts of England, and in other countries. The water is conveyed to the well, which is an elegant classical building, in the Grecian style, from the original spring, by a narrow passage, so close and well contrived as to prevent it from losing any considerable portion of its heat, and is received in a white marble bason. It is not so warm as the Bath water, its temperature being about 80 degrees of Fahrenheit.

THE CHRYSTALLIZED CAVERN.

THE CHRYSTALLIZED CAVERN, the new wonder of the Derbyshire Peak, has been recently discovered in the vicinity of the village of Bradwell. We extract the following particulars of this singular and beautiful natural excavation from Hutchinson's late tour in the High Peak.

The entrance is rather terrific than grand; and the descent for about thirty paces very abrupt. The visitor has then to pass along the inclined way for nearly a quarter of a mile, the opening being so low that it is impossible to proceed, in particular parts, in an erect posture. The different crystallizations which now attract his attention on every side, soon make him forget the irksomeness of the road, and banish every idea of fatigue. New objects of curiosity crowd one on the other: in a place called the Music Chamber, the petrifactions take the semblance of the pipes of an organ; while in other parts, these stalactites are formed into elegant small colonnades, with as exact a symmetry as if they had been chiselled by the most skilful artist. Candles judiciously disposed within them give an idea of the imaginary palaces of fairies, or of sylphs and genii, who have chosen this for their magnificent abode.

Still he has seen nothing comparable to what he is now to expect; for, at the distance of about a hundred paces further, by a rugged descent, he enters what is called the Grotto of Paradise. This heavenly spot for it cannot be compared to any thing terrestrial, is, of itself, a beautiful crystallized cavern, about twelve feet high, and in length twenty feet, pointed at the top, similar to a gothic arch, with a countless number of large stalactites hanging from the