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pleasant little town on Friday afternoon last, nothing loth to enjoy the repose and comfort offered us at Mr. McClung's excellent hotel.

The valley of the Shenandoah, through which our route lay, is one famed for its beauty and fertility. It derives its name from the river which flows through it, and is walled in on the one side by the Blue Ridge and on the other by the Alleghanies. The roads, though now in a better state than they have been for months, confirmed with us their previous reputation for roughness and difficulty: but the badness of the road was a hundred-fold compensated by the beauty and magnificence of the mountain scenery which was continually brought to view.

Being desirous of having the whole day before us, for exploring the Cave and its vicinity, our conveyance was ordered at an early hour on Saturday morning. The Cave is about seventeen miles from Staunton, and after a pleasant ride of three hours and a half, we arrived at the house of the guide, in its neighborhood. Having breakfasted there, we started with him for the Cave, which is nearly half a mile from bis house. We passed the entrance of Madison's Cave, which is in the same mountain, a couple of hundred yards this side of Weyer's, but is now little visited, as it is far inferior in beauty and extent to its successful rival. These caves, as well as one or two others lately opened and partially explored, are entered from the eastern side of a rather steep mountain, running parallel to the Blue Ridge and within two miles of it. The Cave was discovered some time since by a hunter whose name it still bears, in a chase after a ground hog, which not only had succeeded in escaping from him, but had carried off the traps that Weyer had set for his capture. The entrance and Ante-Chamber of this wonderful cavern do not promise you on their first appearance much gratification from your subterraneous journey. Being heated by the exercise of ascending the hill, we were obliged to wait for some time at the door of the Cave, before venturing into its cool depths, which retain throughout summer and winter the usual temperature of the earth, about fifty-six degrees. In the Ante-Chamber, which is about ten feet in height, though soon contracting to a passage of four feet square, the guide placed into each of our hands a shaded candle, and bade us follow him. As our eyes had not yet become accustomed to the change from the bright day light without, to the feeble glimmering of our candles within, our apprehension may be supposed to have been not inconsiderable, as we now groped our way, and now slipped along the muddy path which led us into this place of unknown wonders. We were not obliged to continue very long our stooping position, as we soon reached the first room of the cavern, to which had been given the name of the Dragon's Room, from a fancied resemblance of an uncouth mass of stalagmite to that fabulous animal. From this we pursued a long but narrow passage of about sixty feet in length till we came to a flight of stairs that led us down about thir

teen feet into "Solomon's Temple." In this room, which is one of the most beautiful in the Cave, we were filled with admiration at the brilliancy of the incrustations and stalactites, which in some parts sparkled beautifully in the reflection of the light of our candles. Opposite to us on entering, we observed an elevated recess, which has been appropriately called "Solomon's Throne," a seat not unworthy of that grandest of monarchs. A large white stalactite in the eastern part of the room, has received the name of Solomon's Pillar; and an opening in the limestone has been called Solomon's Meat House. On the right of the steps is a very remarkable mass, that closely resembles the appearance of a body of water frozen during its descent from a precipice, and which is named "the Falls of Niagara."

From this room, by a flight of steps opposite to that which we had descended, we ascended to an entry of fifty feet in length, that conducted us to Barney's Hall, so named from a pillar which has been honored with the title of the gallant Commodore. On the left of this room are two recesses, one of which, the Armory, we did not enter, and the other contains a reservoir of water that has dropped from the roof, and trickled down the sides of the Cave. We had thence to creep through a low and narrow aperture into a passage of more comfortable height communicating with the Banister Room, a kind of gallery in which the stalactites resemble banisters. From this we descended nearly forty feet into the Tan Yard, which contains many objects of interest. The depressions in the floor bear some resemblance to tan vats, and the stalactites which hang from the roof of the cavern are by no means unlike the hides of some large cattle. The next apartinent to this is the Drum Room. Our guide here took his stand near what appeared to be a perpendicular wall of rock, and with his heel performed the part of a bass drummer to great advantage. The deep, mellow tones reverberating through the cavern, produced a grand effect. That which seemed a wall is only a thin partition of stalactite reaching from the ceiling to the floor.

From here, having first ascended and then descended a few feet, we passed into the renowned Ball Room. This room is one hundred feet in length, thirty six feet wide and about twenty five feet in height. The chief interest of the room is due to its size and the levelness of its floor, which enables parties of visitors in the summer to enjoy a subterranean dance. An additional convenience for this amusement is found in the Ladies' Dressing Room, which though small answers very well for its purpose.

By a long and contracted entry, called the Narrow Passage, we were led to Jacob's Ladder, a series of indentations in the rock, said to be natural, and about twelve feet in height. Descending the ladder, we found Jacob's Tea Table and his Ice House!! and by another descent of the same distance, entered the Dungeon. From this,

creeping through an aperture no larger than that at the entrance of the Cave, we arrived at the Senate Chamber. Here a large table of thin rock, extending over half the room, about ten feet from the floor, forms the Gallery. The next room, which has probably derived its name merely from its proximity to the last, is Congress Hall. This room, though large, cannot compare with the apartment we next entered, called Washington's Hall. This magnificent room is two hundred and fifty feet in length, though not more than twenty in width. Our guide left us as we entered it, and desired us to wait till he returned. He then walked leisurely to its farthest extremity, so as to give us some idea of its length, in aid of which the dim twinkling of his candle in the distance materially contributed. According to custom, as I supposed, he then struck up some patriotic tune, which he continued to sing till we were heartily tired of waiting, and had become very impatient for his return. Near the center of the room there stands a calcareous mass, which at some distance may be readily imagined to be a statue of the Father of his country; though a nearer view, whilst passing it, destroys all its effect. We passed through some other rooms of little interest into the Church, the loftiest apartment that we had entered. Its length is more than half that of Washington's Hall, its breadth from ten to fifteen feet, and its height fifty feet. Its name is probably derived from a dark cavity in the roof of the Cave, which from so much of its form as was visible might best be compared to the interior of a steeple. Its effect was very grand, for our lights failed to illuminate the sides of the steeple, except for a short distance; and imagination had full scope for an indefinite extension of the dark recess. In this room there is also a Gallery, somewhat similar to that in the Senate Chamber; and behind it, visible from below, hang some large stalactites, very closely resembling the pipes of an organ. As these formations are for the most part hollow, and of every variety of size, a little care in the selection of the pipes on which to strike, enables the guide to produce a pleasing and harmonical succession of musical sounds. Indeed, in the hands of an ingenious and skillful musician, we believe that this natural organ might prove a most delightful instrument. We then entered a room where was one of the most elegant formations that we had seen. It resembled a collection of folds of drapery, between which our guide interposed his candle, and then exhibited to us their translucency. Passing the Giant's Causeway, we came into the Wilderness, thickly strewed with broken pillars, whose origin it seems difficult to determine. At a considerable height from this room, we observed on a ledge of rocks a number of very remarkable stalagmites, of which one group is called Bonaparte with his body-guard, crossing the Alps. This room, or rather passage, which though narrow is nearly one hundred feet in height, conducts into Jefferson's Hall, the last apartment of the Cave. Near its entrance is a most magnificent stalactitic mass, apparently solid,

and of a brilliant white, thirty six feet in length, and thirty feet in height and in breadth, which has been called the Tower of Babel. There is little else that is remarkable in this room, except at its further extremity, two thin pieces of rock, which project from the ceiling, and which are by no means unlike the two valves of a mammoth oyster. We found here, too, a spring of pure and cool water, which as you may suppose, after our fatiguing walk, proved very grateful. As I have already far exceeded the intended length of this letter, I must pass the Spar Room and one or two others, although equally worthy of notice with others that have been mentioned. The gratification that this visit to the Cave afforded me, I will not attempt to express to you; I will only hope that at some day you may realize it for yourself, by personally beholding its wonders and its beauties. Trusting that you will excuse the prolixity of the letter, and its many imperfections, I will only prolong it by assuring you that I am, Truly yours,

as ever,

B.

EPILEGOMENA.

BRIEF as has been the period, kind reader, since our last interview, the annals of Yale College, if correctly compiled, will present many important events as having transpired during the intervening time. Do not suppose that your individual acts, or those of your associates are about to be perpetuated in the pages of the Magazine. Such is not our purpose, but only to give so general a sketch of passing events, that after your connection with this Institution shall have ceased, you may be able, by a recurrence to the pages of its periodical, to revive the scenes, and recall the pleasures which mark the fleeting present.

First, then, in the order of time (for chronology is an important part of history) you cannot have been unconscious of the strife for "the succession" which has been going on in our midst. It may not be known to all, that the students of Yale College constitute a community by themselves; that a code of laws has been framed for their especial benefit, (vide the Laws of Yale College in one volume, quarto,) not the most democratic in their nature, or in their administration, yet their own; that they are governed by officers, some of whom hold their authority from higher powers, while others are amenable to their fellow students. Be it known, then, that the period for the transmission of the honors of College government had arrived, and that our community anxiously awaited the solemn ceremony. A very important question arose as to the individual who should be invested with this high power. Frequently, in the history of mankind, do we find nations convulsed, and nature herself almost deranged by the warring conflict of rival candidates for the chief power. It would have been entirely unprecedented, yea, it would nearly have given just cause for our expulsion from the great family of nations, if we had not furnished one instance of this kind. The importance

of the crisis to which we are rapidly hastening, the alledged equality of the number of supporters of each of the candidates, and the warmth of feeling exhibited by all classes, rendered this a question of no ordinary interest; one which was calculated to call forth many an aspiring genius.

The members of the College were assembled, and the question was presented with due solemnity. You remember the look of care, of importance and of wisdom, visible in the countenances of all as the discussion of this weighty matter progressed. Had the happiness, the prosperity, or even the existence of a community much larger than our own, depended upon the result of the deliberation, greater efforts would not have been made, or more zeal displayed. You cannot have forgotten the bursts of eloquence, which at the time, exerted such an influence upon the auditory. Day after day did our college halls resound with the loud voices of disputants, and yet although every argument had been presented, and every plan proposed, no decision could be arrived at, but an unanimous agreement to disagree. Thus terminated the discussion of a question, which has long excited much feeling among us, and it is to be hoped that peace and good feeling now exist throughout all the classes.

Reader, are you not aware of a change in your feelings, habits, views, dignities? if not you are behind the spirit of the age. Visit the College chapel; scan closely the visages you will there behold. See you not the change, the great change which has there been effected. A large company, who formerly attracted your especial attention, are no longer to be seen. Their stations are filled by others, and you witness the effect of the march of time, of the advance of College life.

Excuse us, reader, for thus hastening you past a rich intellectual treat, which now claims our attention. The annual departure of those who have finished their collegiate course, furnishes an occasion for the display of fine feeling, of the true essence of poetry, of high-souled eloquence. What more interesting spectacle can be presented than that of one hundred students, after a long and intimate connexion as classmates, after completing the whole round of the sciences, taking each other by the hand for the last time? How many recollections of the past, how many visions of the future, must crowd upon their minds? But a few days since, and we witnessed such a spectacle, we listened to the flowing strains of the Poet, to the noble sentiments of the Orator of the class of '37. Among the many who witnessed the ceremonies of that day, none, we venture to say, went away disappointed. All felt their sympathies enlisted, as the farewell was pronounced by one of their number, to a class distinguished alike for its numbers and talent. No true son of our "Alma Mater," could have indulged other than feelings of pride, as he fancied to himself the honors which would redound to the college from the future acts of those who were about to dissolve their connection with it. With minds disciplined by the admirable course of study prescribed in this institution, and stored with the wealth of ancient and modern literature, what anticipations are too bright, what hopes are too exalted, not to be realized by some of their number. Let the enemy of collegiate education behold a class like this, let him contrast the mental power which was possessed by its members when they entered this institution, and that which they now, not only possess but are capacitated to exert, and answer it to his reason, to common sense, if much good does not result from mental discipline in colleges. True it is that such power may be, and often is used to oppress and injure the great mass of the community, but such is far from being its natural influence. Many objections may be brought against our systems of collegiate education, some evils are so glaring as to require prompt remedy, but it should be remembered, that institutions venerable for their age and the sanction of great men, are not so easily changed, and that a

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