A SYLVAN GROTTO. 409 



flight of more than fifty steps ; descending which, I saw 

 unexpectedly a spectacle of such extraordinary beauty, 

 that I sent the servant back to tell Mr. Catherwood to 

 come to me forthwith, if he had to be carried in his 

 hammock. It was a large cavern or grotto, with a roof 

 of broken, overhanging rock, high enough to give an air 

 of wildness and grandeur, impenetrable at midday to 

 the sun's rays, and at the bottom water pure as crystal, 

 still and deep, resting upon a bed of white limestone 

 rock. It was the very creation of romance ; a bathing- 

 place for Diana and her nymphs. Grecian poet never 

 imagined so beautiful a scene. It was almost a profa- 

 nation, but in a few minutes we were swimming around 

 the rocky basin with feelings of boyish exultation, only 

 regretting that such a freak of nature was played where 

 so few could enjoy its beauties. On a nobleman's 

 estate in England it would be above all price. The 

 bath reinvigorated our frames. It was after dark when 

 we returned ; hammocks were waiting for us, and very 

 soon we were in a profound sleep. 

 Vol. II.— 3 F 



