people; yet, in their active zeal, with unyielding tenacity, did they adhere to the purity and simplicity of primitive days, discarding, at once and forever, the tinseled drapery and gaudy show of superstitious forms.

In their wanderings, like Eneas of old, who snatched his household gods from the crackling flames and bore them safe to the Ausonian shores as the dearest objects of his earthly love, so they brought with them what most on earth they valued-Liberty, Letters, and Religion in its purity. It is true they did, for a time, submit to the form of English government and laws, so far, at least, as their rights were unmolested by the mother land; but when the hand of the ruthless tyrant touched upon these, they spurned the name and form of English domination.

Here originated the Revolution. It was but the natural working of those principles that had been handed down from one generation to another, from the time that the pure incense of humble prayer first ascended from the first family altar on Plymouth rock. It was from the Bible that they derived their ideas of liberty; and religion and liberty were to them, as they are to us, one and inseparable. With such a basis the people of no country can be enslaved. They must be free; they cannot avoid it.

But this Revolution was the means of the development of new political truths; that is, the inalienable rights of man, as set forth in the Declaration of Independence, were then for the first time established upon a tangible, sure foundation. Then was framed that constitution which is the chief corner-stone of our Republic, the glory of our land, and the admiration of the world. This, together with the Declaration, were but the expression of principles deep-rooted in every American heart, principles that were taught daily at every hearth in the land.

Our subsequent history has been but a fuller illustration of the great principles of freedom. They permeate the mass as perfectly, and move, in each of us, as naturally and unconsciously as the vital air we breathe.

The permanence of our infant institutions is, indeed, regarded by some as problematical; yet, in looking over the history of the world for the last two centuries, where, in the old world, has any thing, either in modes of government or religious faith, displayed less mutability than the institutions which the Puritans brought into being?

It has been ever a favorite saying among crowned heads, that "the people could not govern themselves;" and on this ground they predicted the early downfall of this Republic. Still, after the lapse of more than half a century, here it stands, secure, a living epistle, in which all men may read and know that self-government is not only possible, but that it is the only form under which the mind is purely free to expand and vigorously exercise its highest powers.

Z.

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE MAMMOTH CAVE.

I HAVE often thought it strange, that while a tour to Europe is daily becoming more indispensable to what is called a finished education,' and while a desire to see the Old World is constantly gaining ground among all who have it in their power, there is, comparatively, so little curiosity to become familiar with our own land.

The youth sighs to behold the countries, of which, from his earliest years, he has heard, and read, and thought so much. He longs to mingle in the busy whirl of London; to revel amid the gayeties of Paris; or to wander in lands hallowed by the memories of the past. From the halls of his Alma Mater he steps on board the steamer, looking forward with eager impatience to his first view of a foreign shore. Months, perhaps years, are spent abroad; his wanderings guided by a wayward curiosity, or, it may be, the worthier desire of knowledge. At length, his desires have been gratified; he has seen Europe, and all that is there to interest the stranger. He returns to his native land; and if he has traveled with right motives, he can hardly fail to have gained much. Once home, his profession wholly occupies his time; and now, having made "the grand tour," he thinks it of little importance to seek interest or improvement elsewhere. That his own country may possibly be worth seeing, somehow never occurs to him. A late tourist amuses himself, at the expense of an' English nobleman he met in Germany, who "believed the United States formed the southern portion of Canada." He might have felt unpleasantly to meet any of his own countrymen, who knew but little more of some parts of the United States; to whom the name of a "planter," suggested a ferocious individual in a Panama hat, with a branding-iron in one hand and a cow-hide in the other, leading a gang of negroes to the cotton-field; and in whose mind the most striking parts of the Western costume were a bowie-knife or two, and an unlimited number of pistols.

But it is not the desire of visiting foreign lands, so much as the want of interest in our own, to which I refer. Surely there is enough within our borders to give pleasure to the citizen as well as the stranger. Its vast extent, the variety of its soil and climate, the different and almost opposite characters of those who inhabit its various sections, are matters of curious observation. It has sacred spots, too; scenes hallowed by associations of the past, and possessing a peculiar charm to the American heart. Nature has done her part to render it attractive. The rugged cliffs of the White Mountains, vieing in grandeur with the boasted glories of the Alps; the plains of the sunny South, rich with the verdure of the tropics; the broad prairies of the West; have these no charms for the lover of Nature? Is there no sublimity in the thunder of Niagara, "the roar of many waters;" in the dark labyrinths of the Monarch of Caverns; or that tremendous Bridge, whose single arch laughs to scorn the proudest work of human contrivance?

Ne quid nimis, saith the sage; so say I, and a truce to moralizing. Do you really believe, kind reader, what your humble servant has been trying to impress upon you? If so, you have already determined to commence your "grand tour" at home; you intend to know something of American men, and manners, and scenery, before you cross the ocean, to be worried by custom-house officers, cheated by foreign landlords, swindled by foreign valets, and perhaps requested to "stand and deliver!" in the mellifluous accents which have so often enchanted you, on the lips of Tedesco. A most patriotic and commendable resolution! You will not take it amiss, then, if "wun who noze" attempt, in his humble way, to tell you some little about one of the wonders you hope to see.

A few years ago I made one of a small party who set out, on a bright morning in August, to reach "The Cave." We had arrived the evening before, at B-'s Tavern, a noted half-way house on the Louisville road, after a fatiguing stage ride of twenty-four hours. A good night's rest, however, and the substantial comforts of a first-rate Western inn, refreshed us wonderfully; and in high spirits we stepped into the "extra" stage that rattled up to the door. The baggage quickly filled the boot; "all right!"-and before the grinning darkey had finished his bows and scrapes for the "quarter," we were dashing along at the rate of ten miles an hour. The Cave is situated some ten or twelve miles to the west of the main road, in a part of the country as yet comparatively little cultivated. Our way lay through the forest, over a road traversed only by the heavy ox-cart of the farmer, except during the season for visitors to the Cave. Thick woods flanked both sides of it, save where an area covered with "girdled" trees, or surrounded by a hastily constructed rail-fence, gave promise of a future settlement. There was little of what connoisseurs call "scenery;" in the forest, the ruddy tints of autumn had not yet made their appearance, and the bright green of the foliage gave a refreshing, though somewhat monotonous cast to its cool recesses.

A stage-ride of a fine morning is an admirable antidote to silence; what we had already seen of the country, and what we expected soon to see, furnished inexhaustible themes for conversation, and a merrier party than ours never set off on a pleasure-trip. Occasionally a somewhat unexpected addition to the company presented itself in the person of our driver. He was a capital specimen of the Western stagedrivers; an animal about as different from the English coachman, as can well be imagined. Picture to yourself a lean, rawboned specimen of humanity, some six feet seven or eight, without his shoes, loosely surrounded by a well-worn suit of "Kentucky jeans;" with a pair of paws approaching the size of a dinner-plate, and an understanding proportionably extensive; the whole surmounted by a white wool hat, as innocent of nap as the palm of your hand, though not quite so free from spot or stain. Beneath it, a face which might have puzzled Lavater; an enormous mouth, "turned up" at the corners with tobacco-juice, and occasionally opening to emit streams of the same; high cheekbones, and small gray eyes, restlessly turning from one object to an

other, with a lurking expression of that humor which is so characteristic of the West; and a voice, which, by some mysterious law of association, forcibly reminded me of a dried mackerel. His countenance betokened a kind of "don't care" good humor, and his gait was the careless, half-awkward swing of a man who is well enough contented with himself and every one else.

By some unaccountable species of gymnastics, he would contrive, now and then, to twist his head down to the front window of the stage to make a remark or two; and then, resuming his upright position on the box, give an easy "cluck" to his horses, apparently well satisfied with his share of the conversation. Such interruptions, however, were not very frequent, and rather amused us than otherwise. I remember one at this moment, which may be worth giving. One of the party expressed a wish that some English tourist would publish a description of the Cave, as it might be interesting to know what they thought of that specimen of Yankeedom. How he heard it I know not, but the next instant the driver was peeking in at the window, as the Yankees say, with an answer. "Wal, I reckon I know what some o' them Englishers think, anyhow. I druv an English woman over to the Cave once, myself. She wa'n't over young, and as ugly as sin, I tell you; and she didn't do nothin' the whole way but abuse Ole Kentuck up and down. She sed it wan't fit for a white man to live in, and the way she made fun of every thing in it was dreadful. I got mad 'fore she was done, and if she was a woman, I wa'n't a goin' to set an' listen at her, so I jist turned round and sed thar was one thing Kentuck could boast of anyhow, and that was lots o' pretty girls! She looked like she was sort of discomboberated at that, and I reckon she had mighty little to say agin this country arterwards."

As we approached the Cave, the character of the country began to change. Considerable elevations and depressions in the ground became frequent; and the road was hilly and uneven. I remember ob

serving on one side of it a large sink-hole,' some forty or fifty feet in diameter across the top, and, perhaps, ten or twelve in depth; in fact, a natural basin. Large trees grew around it, and smaller ones on its sloping sides; indications of a not very recent origin. Some have attributed these appearances to the internal workings of the causes which produced the Cave itself, perhaps the upheaving of strata on a small scale. At least it would seem impossible that the Cave owes its existence to the agency of water alone. But I am anticipating.

After a couple of hours' ride, we found ourselves at the "Cave House;" an edifice on the plan of the Hotels at the western Springs generally. That is to say, a two story building, constructed of large logs, hewn square, and fitting closely above one another, weather boarded on the outside, and plastered within. It was at least sixty feet in length, and a piazza ran along the whole front, in both stories. At each end a cabin had been added to the main building, jutting out towards the front; opposite to one of these, and extending in the rear, was a long double cabin made in one, affording a dining-hall on the ground flour, and a ball-room above. The whole building had been

put together piecemeal. Additional accommodations had been provided from time to time, as the number of visitors yearly increased; and the heavy log frames of several new cabins' stood like so many great pig-pens on one side, to be roofed in and completed whenever it should be convenient. As there were comparatively few in the house, we were soon provided with rooms; and, in them, we gladly remained until the welcome summons of the dinner-bell resounded through the building.

I had passed a day or two at the Cave, some years previous to the visit I am now describing; and, curious to see how my recollections of it corresponded with the reality, an hour after dinner found me setting out with a guide to explore "this side the rivers." A large party had been formed for the ensuing day, which we were to join; but all who wish to examine the Cave at their leisure, must enter it, at least once, with the guide alone, for it is dangerous to lose sight of him, and with many in the party there is little opportunity to see any thing out of the regular path. Donning an old suit, with a lamp in one hand and a stout stick in the other, I soon found "Steve," who was quietly awaiting me at the entrance of the ravine which leads to the mouth of the Cave. Every one who has ever visited the Cave will long remember "Steve," the prince of guides. He is as inseparably connected with it as Barnum with Tom Thumb, and I really believe he loves it more than he does himself. A fine fellow is Steve; a capital companion for any one, and in any mood. Would you be left to your own thoughts?—he is as silent as the stones around you. Are you disposed to talk ?-every anecdote, every adventure connected with the Cave, is at his command, and, with the Trojan hero, he can often say, "quorum magna pars fui." He is quite a musician, too; and many a time have I listened with pleasure to his full, manly tones, rebounding and echoing from the rocky sides of the "Main Cave," or in the precipitous "Pass of El Ghor." He is a mulatto, though not a slave; and his bright black eyes and intelligent features indicate a capacity far above the ordinary run of his race.

In addition to the lamp, which all must carry, Steve bore a large can of oil, suspended from his shoulder by a stout strap; an indispensable requisite, if more than an hour is to be spent in the Cave. The lamps are made of tin, and fastened below to a small round plate, from which three wires rise, meeting in another smaller circle of tin, above the flame. A ring is fastened to this, by which they are carried. We entered the ravine already mentioned; a deep, though broad gully, irregular in its course, and heavily overshadowed by the trees on either side. After following it for nearly a quarter of a mile, we came to a little arbor, constructed of the branches of trees, and containing one or two rude seats. Steve turned to me with a halfmischievous smile :-" You've been here a'ready, Mr. find the Cave now? It's only ten steps off." I looked around in some surprise for the entrance; but it was nowhere to be seen. He turned abruptly to the right, and the next moment I found myself at the mouth. The roof is almost on a level with the ground, and to

; can you