and near to the porch of the cavern delineated, as also in progress towards the other extremity, yawning apertures aloft and laterally communicate with the celebrated ravine in the castle bounds, and receive a blue misty light into the gigantic casemate which illuminates the glistening and sparry walls, displaying the white frosted vapour upon the lips of the attendants and their guide. In sultry weather much danger is incurred by entering the caverns insufficiently protected from an altered temperature.

The demand for the mineral treasures of the earth, and especially its coal, created by the advance of civilisation, has caused the undermining of its surface upon an extraordinary scale in modern times, though some of our own mines date their origin from the era of the ancient Britons. This is the case, as the name imports, with Odin's mine, at the southern foot of Mam Tor in Derbyshire, a place deserving a visit. A shaft, nearly

a mile in length, leads to the vein of ore that is now worked, which varies in thickness from two or three inches to as many feet. Beautiful crystallisations of blende, barytes, calcareous spar, and selenite are found in this extensive excavation, as well as the curious and dangerous mineral called slikensides. "The effects of this extraordinary mineral," says Mr. Rhodes, "are not less singular than terrific. A blow with a hammer, a stroke or a scratch with a miner's pick, are sufficient to rend those rocks asunder with which it is united or embodied. The stroke is immediately succeeded by a crackling noise, which is sometimes accompanied with a sound not unlike the mingled hum of a swarm of bees; shortly afterwards an explosion follows, so loud and appalling that even the miners, though a hardy race of men and little accustomed to fear, turn pale and tremble at the shock. This dangerous combination of matter must consequently be approached with caution. To avoid the use of the common implements of mining, a small hole, is carefully bored, into which a little gunpowder is put and exploded with a match, which gives the workmen time to withdraw to a place of safety, there to await the result of their operations. Sometimes not less than five or six successive explosions ensue at intervals of from two to ten or fifteen minutes; and occasionally they are so sublimely awful that the earth has been violently shaken to the surface by the concussion, even when the discharge has taken place at the depth of more than one hundred fathoms."

CHAPTER V.

SPRINGS.

ATER, essential to the existence of man and the fertility of the soil, occurs in each of the physical conditions which bodies are capable of assuming the gaseous, solid, and liquid states. In the form of vapour, sustained in the atmosphere, it will be treated of in another section. In the solid condition, one of its aspects has been previously referred to- that of the glaciers of high mountain regions; and in the lowland districts of the temperate zones, water annually assumes a solid form, a mantle of snow lying upon the ground in winter, and a coating of ice upon the pools and rivers. Upon high elevations, also, even within the tropics, these phenomena are perpetual; and, upon the level surface of circumpolar countries, snow and ice are constant features of the landscape. In a liquid state, the continental waters have the character of springs, rivers, or lakes, which vary greatly in their external appearance, and in the chemical composition of the fluid. The oceanic waters likewise display these characters; for we may regard the broad expanse of different seas as vast lakes, while the numerous, strong, and permanent currents that occur are the rivers of the deep; and in various places it is certain that jets of fresh-water rise from the bottom of the ocean, which materially lessen its saltness in their neighbourhood. In the Gulf of Spezzia, a branch of the Gulf of Genoa-one of the finest harbours in the world, and of exquisite beauty-there is a powerful jet of fresh water rising in a liquid column from the bed of the sea; and on the south coast of Cuba, at a considerable distance from the shore, there are fresh-water jets of such force, that boats cannot approach them without hazard. The general division of the waters of the globe is into salt, mineral, and fresh water. The ocean is the grand example of the former; but there are many continental specimens of saline springs and lakes, which proceed from combination with rock-salt or sulphate of magnesia. The mineral waters arise from sulphur, arseniates, or other metallic substances, derived from the circumjacent earth, held in solution. For the most part, however, the continental waters are fresh, or somewhat similar to distilled water, whether resulting from rain, or the melting of snow and ice, and constituting either springs, rivers, or lakes.

Springs, whether gushing rapidly from rocky clefts, or gently oozing out of banks of earth, are interesting objects in the landscape, from the general purity of their waters, the frequent seclusion of their situations, their murmuring flow, and the green enamel of mosses and flowering plants to which the refreshing virtues of their streams give birth. There are not a few springs whose history may be traced back thousands of years, and which have acquired celebrity from their association with events and personages of a far remote antiquity. Who has not heard of the fountain of Arethusa, with its dark water, to which the hero of the Odyssey was directed by the goddess, upon returning to his native Ithaca?

tain is about

six miles in the interior of the island, the road ascending all the way. It is a small basin at the top of a ravine, and is

supplied by

unceasing

percolations through the superincum

bent rock. Seated on a broken arch before it, the

sides of the

glen appear clothed with

leafy plants and odoriferous shrubs; and onwards
through it a glimpse of the blue sea is caught, while the
summit of the cliff above the fountain commands a view
of the islands and mountains of Greece. Hither, it may
be soberly believed, the author of the Odyssey, if not
the hero, was a pilgrim, near three thousand years ago,
and drank of the limpid spring at which now the goat-
herds of Ithaca quench their thirst. Dodwell, who visited
this spot, describes its water as "clear and good, trickling gently
from a small cave in the rock, which is covered with a smooth
and downy moss. It has formed a pool four feet deep, against
which a modern wall is built to check its overflowing. After
oozing through an orifice in the wall, it falls into a wooden
trough placed there for cattle. In the winter it overflows, and
finds its way, in a thin stream, through the glen to the sea.
The French had possession of Ithaca in 1798, and the rocks of
the Arethusan fountain are covered with republican inscrip-
tions, Vive la République!' Liberté, égalité, et fraternité,'

are seen scattered on all sides, but are becoming effaced." Who also has not heard of the fountain of Castalia, in which the Delphian Pythoness laved her limbs, and from which she, and the poets who versified her answers, were believed in part to derive their inspiration? The poetical expression, the "dew of Castalie," refers to the spray of a cascade which descends through a cleft of Parnassus, fed by the snows upon its summit; but the fount of inspiration, the bath used by the Pythia, is supposed to be a small shallow basin on the margin of the rill of the cascade, supplied with its own perennial stream, which unites its superabundant water with that of the adjacent stream. Here

a striking change has taken place within the period of authentic history. Where are the rich tributes of the Lydian king? the spoils of Marathon and Salamis? the sacred hall of the Amphictyonic council? the temple of Apollo? the city of Delphi, whose buildings are mentioned, in the records of its former magnificence, as covering two miles of ground? There is not a vestige to be identified; but Parnassus still exhibits its bold heights and transparent waters, unaffected by the passage of ages.

"The shrine hath sunk! but thou, unchang'd, art there!
Mount of the voice and vision, rob'd with dreams!
Unchang'd, and rushing through the radiant air,
With thy dark waving pines, and flashing streams,
And all thy founts of song!. Their bright course teems
With inspiration yet; and each dim haze,

Or golden cloud, which floats around thee, seems

As with its mantle veiling from our gaze

The mysteries of the past, the gods of elder days!"

The Castalian spring is now dedicated to St. John; a pretty chapel bearing his name is by its side; pendent ivy, moss, brambles, flowering shrubs, and a large fig-tree, throw a cool and refreshing gloom over the spot. Upon a buttress of the chapel, the inscription occurs, "Byron, 1806." But the poet has left another memorial of his visit.

66

Happier in this than mightiest bards have been,

Whose fate to distant homes confin'd their lot,
Shall I unmov'd behold the hallow'd scene,
Which others rave of, though they know it not?
Though here no more Apollo haunts his grot,
And thou, the Muses' seat, and now their grave,

Some gentle spirit still pervades the spot,

Sighs in the gale, keeps silence in the cave,

And glides with glassy foot o'er yon melodious wave."

Dr. Chandler speaks of the excessive coldness of the water of Castaly. "I began," he states, "to wash my hands in it, but was instantly chilled, and seized with a tremor, which rendered me unable to stand or walk without support. This incident, when Apollo was dreaded, might have been embellished with a superstitious interpretation. Perhaps the Pythia, who bathed in this icy fluid, mistook her shivering for the god." It is in the sandy deserts bordering on the tropics that springs acquire their highest importance and value, owing to the rarity of water, and the increased demand made for it by the heat of the climate. Here they are frequently connected with verdant spots, similar to that of the interview between the Scottish Knight and the Emir in the brilliant tale of the "Talisman." "It was a scene," says Scott, "which, perhaps, would elsewhere have deserved little notice; but as the single speck, in a boundless horizon, which promised the refreshment of shade and living water,—these blessings, held cheap where they are common, rendered the fountain and its neighbourhood a little paradise. Some generous or charitable hand, ere yet the evil days of Palestine began, had walled in and arched over the fountain, to preserve it from being absorbed in the earth, or choked by the flitting clouds of dust with which the least breath of wind covered the desert. The arch was now broken, and partly ruinous; but it still so far projected over, and covered in the fountain, that it excluded the sun in a great measure from its waters, which, hardly touched by a straggling beam, while all around was blazing, lay in a steady repose, alike delightful to the eye and the imagination. Stealing from under the arch, they were first received into a marble basin, much defaced indeed, but still cheering the eye, by showing that the place was anciently considered as a station, that the hand of man had

been there, and that man's accommodation had been in some measure attended to. The thirsty and weary traveller was reminded by these signs that others had suffered similar difficulties, reposed in the same spot, and, doubtless, found their way in safety to a more fertile country. Again; the scarcely visible current which escaped from the basin, served to nourish the few trees which surrounded the fountain; and where it sunk into the ground and disappeared, its refreshing presence was acknowledged by a carpet of velvet verdure." Some of the wells that occur in the wilderness of Arabia were halting-places to the descendants of Jacob in their migration through it, and appear under the same character now as then, shaded by a few palms, often supplying brackish and bitter water, capable of being sweetened by artificial means, and claimed as valuable property by the parties having territorial right to the soil. "And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters, for they were bitter;" but the juices of a plant thrown into them, rendered them palatable. There is every reason to suppose this spot to be the fountain Hawârah, a basin of unpleasant, saltish, and somewhat bitter water, near which Dr. Robinson found many bushes of the shrub Ghurkŭd in blossom, a low thorny plant producing a red berry, which ripens in June, which is juicy and slightly acidulous, capable of correcting the bad qualities of the spring by mingling with it. "And they came to Elim, where were twelve wells of water, and threescore and ten palm trees." This is identified upon good grounds with Wady Gharandel, a valley about seven miles from the former station, a mile in breadth, with date trees, tamarisks, acacias of different species, and a copious fountain producing a small rivulet. The non-existence at present of twelve wells is no evidence, as Burckhardt remarks, against the conjecture, for water here is readily found by digging for it, and wells are frequently formed which the drifting sands fill up. Drawing water has ordinarily been the employment of females throughout the East, without distinction of rank, from a remote antiquity,- -an onerous duty, as the wells are often at considerable distances from their habitations. "The daughters of the men of the city came out to draw water," is a remark which refers to a period separated by two thousand years from the time of a similar record, "there cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water." Equally ancient and general is the oriental practice of making the neighbourhood of a spring the scene of occasional festivity and mirth, a usage which was primarily a tribute of gratitude for its waters. "When I was at Ain, in Palestine," says Maritis, a young Arab woman, at whose wedding I had been present on the first day of our arrival at the village, came hither to draw water. She was accompanied by some other women who were singing a song allusive to her marriage." We have a song of the Israelites, of the recitative kind, commemorating a spring, encountered soon after their emergence from the dry and thirsty desert.

66

"Spring up, O well! Answer ye to it!"

One party sung these words, and called upon another band to reply; and they repliedThe princes searched it out."

"The well!.

And the chorus was,

"The nobles of the people have digged it,
By decree; upon their own borders."

Dr. Clarke informs us that the Eleusinian women practised a dance about a well, that was called Callichorus; the dance was also accompanied by songs in honour of Ceres; and these songs of the well are still sung in parts of Greece and Syria. There is a similar practice in our own country, which will be adverted to upon a subsequent page.

The origin of springs, a subject invested with considerable obscurity, has been referred to the rains and melted snow which the earth absorbs; to the subterranean combination