the door was opened by an old man, with a lamp in his hand. He started back on seeing me, for my dress was wet and disordered, my face and hands had been wounded while scrambling among the rocks, and fatigue and terror had given me a wan and agitated look. I entered the house, the inmates of which were a woman and a boy; and having seated myself near the fire, related to my host all that had occurred on board the floating beacon, and then requested him to accompany me down to the beach, that we might search for Angerstoff and Marietta. "No, no," cried he, "that is impossible. Hear how the storm rages! Worlds would not induce me to have any communication with murderers. It would be impious to attempt it on such a night as this. The Almighty is surely punishing them now! Come here, and look out." Mrs. B. Why, ma'am, not very well. I have had a cold for several days. Last Thursday night I went to pay a visit to our new neighbour, and didn't put on a shawl: you know the weather was quite cool, and Mr. B. advised me to put on one; but I says to him, says I Mrs. L. O, ma'am, did you know Sammy Wiffet is going to be married to his rich cousin at last? I always told you it would be a match. I followed him to the door, but the such a fine fortune go out of it. I The family, I knew, would never let moment he opened it, the wind exam told they are going to live at her tinguished the lamp. Total dark-fathes's on the North River. I pity ness prevailed without, and a chaos of rushing, bursting, and moaning sounds, swelled upon the ear with irregular loudness. The blast swept round the hut in violent eddyings, and we felt the chilly spray of the sea driving upon our faces at intervals. I shuddered, and the old man closed the door, and then resumed his seat near the fire. My entertainer made a bed for me upon the floor, but the noise of the tempest, and the anxiety I felt about the fate of Angerstoff and Marietta kept me awake the greater part of the night. Soon after dawn my host accompanied me down to the beach. We found the wreck of the floating beacon, but were unable to discover any traces of the guilty pair whom had left on board of it. I I do not believe, says Carpentier. that those who are unintelligible, are her, poor thing, for that. The old lady, I understand, has not the best temper in the world. Besides, I am told, she is not heartily for the match. She thinks the girl and boy are too young for marriage; and, pon my word, I think so too. I do assure you she is no more than fifteen; and he, I can't tell his age exabout the time of my Jemmy's maractly, but I remember he was born riage; and that is, let me see, next November will be-pray, (looking out at the window) whose coach is that? Mrs. B. Why, ma'am, I don't know but my cold's so distressing, and I ; some upstart's, I dare say; have not been out of the house these five days, and havn't seen a soul at home, and just run over to have a little chat with you, though Mr. B. was much against my going out till I am quite recovered. If you must go,' says he, be sure to put on a shawl." So I says to Betty, "Betty," says I, "do run up to my room and bring Mrs. L. Ah, ma'am, now I think of it, let me ask you if you've heard whether the Calthorpes are going to stay in their house this year? I'm told they're going to give it up, and going to live in the country: business is so dull, and Mrs. Calthorpe's health is so bad, and their young children, and altogether, make them resolve to go into the country. So they give out; but I understand the true reason is, Mr. Calthorpe's affairs. But I beg you'll not mention this again as coming from me; it's mere report, and I dare say an't true; but I just tell you what I've heard: it was whispered to me as a great secret, by Mrs. Pry, who told me not to mention it to any body, and I wouldn't, except to a particular friend who will keep it to herself. Mr. Calthorpe's affairs are quite deranged, and he leaves town to prevent his ruin; and that, I think, is quite prudent. To be sure, he's lived in too high a style since his marriage. His wife had no fortune; he married her a poor ga'al, an orphan, poor thing, and living altogether on her aunt, who brought her up. Pray, ma'am, have you heard any thing of their affairs? Mrs. B. Why, ina'am, now you put me in mind; I think I did hear something of these folks. A gentleman, a relation of my husband's, a Mr. I declare I've forgot his name, a tall, portly man. Mr. B. invited him to dine with us on Sunday, and told me his name. The day before, he says to me, says he, Let's have something nice to-morrow, for I've asked Mr. I can't think of his name; I wonder I'm so forgetful; but my cold's so troublesome that I don't remember nothing. I wanted to take advice, but Mr. B. laughed me out of it."Wouldn't it be as well," says I, my dear, to send for Dr. Bolus ? I'm afraid," says I, "this shocking cold will settle on my lungs." This was on Friday night about dusk; and just as I was speaking, who should go by but the doctor himself. So my husband called him in, and so— Mrs. L. Ah, ma'am, that puts me in mind of something I wanted to ask you. I'm told Dr. Bolus is really engaged to the widow Waddle, and that they're to be married very shortly. The widow, I understand, has a pretty snug estate, and no children, and the doctor's practice, they tell me, is lessening every day, since that unfortunate mistake of his with Polly Pepperill's child. I suppose you've heard of this story.The poor child was drooping for some time, and the doctor was called, and he said it was the meazles, and that no time wasn't to be lost; and he physick'd and physick'd till the poor child actually died. 'Twas a sad mistake indeed, of the doctor's. I'm told the family was very angry, and the doctor hasn't held up his head since. It's high time the doctor was married, if he means to be at all; though, for my part, I can't say I'm over-fond of late marriages.-What do you think, ma'am? Mrs. B. Why, ma'am, I must needs say I don't like them at all. I was married myself at seventeen, and I'm sure I have no reason in the world to repent that I was married so early. Mr. B. was four years older than I was; but twenty-one, you know, ma'am, is quite young for a man: and Mr. B. was in a good way of business to maintain a family: and, to be sure, we've had a family to maintain; for Mr. B's. sisters were dependent on him. They lived at our house till they were married. When Jemmy Mather courted Patty, who was the last, I was heartily glad; for you can't think, ma'am, how disagreeable it is to have many mistresses in a family. When the wedding was fixed, "I'm sure," says I to Mr. B. "I'm glad on't. The poor girl will get a husband at last," says Beam'd from his radiant throne; The Moon was rob'd in silver rays, And mild reflecting solar blaze; Bright gem'd the starry zone: The morning Star less lucid still, And led the van of day; Let these be signs!" JEHOVAH said; Thy signs, O GOD, and lead to Thee, Mrs. L. Ah, ma'am, now you" talk of maiden sisters, what, I wonder, will become of Betsey Bolus, if he marries? I am told she's no friend to the match. The widow, I understand, made it a condition with the doctor, that Betsey should live somewhere else. She is quite of your opinion, that one mistress in a family is enough. And Betsey, they tell me, is a little of the old maid in her temper peevish as the deuce; always quarrelling with the maids. The doctor can't keep a servant more than a month. The girl who lives with me lived with them some time, and tells odd stories of Miss Betsey's peevishness. Mrs. B. O dear! it's clouded up, I see. It looks very like for rain. I must run home before it wets, or I shall only increase my cold. Mr. B. made me promise to come home if there was the least sign of rain; so, good night, ma'am. Pray come over soon; it's a long time since you've called, and I hope you'll come shortly. Good night." Mrs. L. La, ma'am, what's your hurry? Do stay a little longer and take tea it's just coming in. Mrs. B. Can't, indeed, ma'am. Good night, good night. HYMN. JEHOVAH Spake! wide Chaos heard, Confusion, darkness fled; And new-born beauties spread. Beyond DEATH's cloudy vale. WIER'S CAVE. The following description of a cave in Augusta county, Virginia, is given by general CALVIN JONES, in a letter to a gentleman in North-Carolina, from whom it was communicated to the editor of the Raleigh Star, for publication. To those of our readers who have not seen it, particularly that part of them who tions in a constant state of excite- are delighted in the research for the hidden curiosities of nature, and a display of the wonders of the Great Architect of the Universe, it will be peculiarly interesting; and those who have had the pleasure of perusing it before, will undoubtedly consider it worthy of a more permanent preservation than it could receive in the columns of a common newspaper. The wood cut at the head, was engraved for the Masonic Register, by the artist LANSING, 146 Cherry-is realized. The bridge affords only street, New-York. MY DEAR SIR, Detained here (for this day at least) by a rain, I will occupy a part of the leisure it allows, by an endeavour to make you participate in some degree in the pleasures my tour has afforded me; and as I know the interest you take in the rude, but bold workmanship of nature, I will give you an account, though a brief and imperfect one, of a place very little known, where she has made some of her happiest efforts. two or three views the cave a thousand. In my progress up the valley, I was attracted to Madison's Cave by Mr. Jefferson's description of it, but had much difficulty in obtaining directions where to find it, other than those obtained in the Notes. Maps of Virginia I could no where meet with, though I made diligent inquiry, except the old one of Fry and Jeffreys, which I saw at Fravel's in Woodstock; so that it was not until I had arrived within 20 miles of the cave I could ascertain its place, and there I learned for the first time that another CAVE had recently been discovered near it, and so far surpassing it in extent and grandeur, that Madison's had ceased to be an object of curiosity. I found the caves to be in the N. E. corner of Augusta county, very near the Rockingham line, two miles from Port Republic, a little town at the confluence of the two branches of the Shenandoah,* a little out of the direct route from New Market to Staunton, thirty miles from the for Since my last from Winchester, I have visited the Caves in Augusta, and the Natural bridge in the county to which it has given name. The former exceeded, but the latter did not equal my expectations. I saw the bridge, I presume, under circumstances that were not favourable to the emotions of the sublime. I had a little before seen the grand, romantic scenery at, and around Har per's Ferry, where the Potomac passes through the Blue Ridge. 1 had just beheld the wonderous sub-mer, and seventeen from the latter terranean palaces in Augusta; every step, as I advanced up the rich and beautiful valley of Shenandoah, bounded on one side by the Blue Ridge, and on the other by the North Mountains, presented objects calculated to keep the sublime emo place, increasing the distance between them three or four miles, but more than compensating the travel * Pronounced with a full accent on the first and last syllables, "Shannondore." ler (putting other considerations out of the question) at this season of the year, by the superior quality of the road. This place may be visited from Charlottville, on the other side of the Blue Ridge, 32 miles distant, by a turnpike road through Brown's gap. To Richmond is 120 miles. I expect you would prefer the route to Brown's gap, as Monticello would then be in your way. be had, limiting for the present further discoveries in that direction. I advised the proprietor to put fish into them, which he promised to do, so that visitants may probably in a few years add fishing to the entertainments afforded by the excursions. Madison's Cave, as you know from Mr. Jefferson's description, has its entrance about two-thirds of the way to the top of the hill, immediately over the river. The mouth of Wier's Cave is parallel to it in the same hill, two or three hundred son's Cave penetrates 125 yards, Wier's 900. This last was discovered in February, 1806, by the man whose name it bears, and this I propose to give you some faint idea of by a description brief, and necessarily very imperfect. But to obviate its imperfections, and aid your comprehension, I herewith give you the outlines of its course and apartments, incorrect no doubt, but, bearing some resemblance to what it would represent, and the best I am able to offer. The letters in the plan will be referred to in the course of our route. The index points to the entrance: the arrows mark the descent in places where it is most considerable. The hill in which the caves are, presents a perpendicular front of 200 feet in height to the south branch of the Shenandoah, looking northeast-yards further up the river. Madierly towards the Blue Mountains, three miles distant beyond the river. Its front on the river is about half a mile, but spreading wider as it recedes, its height declines gradually back until it dissolves into the plain. Of Madison's Cave I shall say but little, Mr. Jefferson's description of it being ample. It derives its name from the father of the late bishop Madison, who resided near it; and who, when alive, was equally famed for his hospitality, his practical wit, (which lay more in his heels and fingers than in his head) and his convivial disposition. It has been known 60 or 70 years, but is now little visited as a curiosity. The earth in it affords Salt Petre in the proportion of from two to four lbs. to the bushel; 2000 weight was manufactured here during the last two years. The earth when brought out, is at the mouth of the cave, put into a plank gutter which conducts it to the bank of the river at the bottom of the hill, where it is put into the tubs or vats mixed with wood ashes; water is passed through it, and this is evaporated to a salt by boiling. The lakes of water which are found at the extremity of the cave have been navigated by a boat, and thoroughly explored since Mr. Jefferson wrote. They are 30 or 40 feet deep, and bounded on the furthest extremity by rocks sc abrupt, that a footing can no where The cave is solid limestone, sometimes ascending, but more commonly descending in its course, narrow and low at the entrance, but increasing in height as you advance, until it becomes 80 or 90 feet high.— Water is constantly dropping from the arch and trickling down the sides, not in quantities sufficient to affect the lights, or incommode visitors. This forms stalactites of every possible form, and every variety of beauty. The colours are for the most part white, but sometimes red, and occasionally variegated. every where that stone is formed by this percolation of the water. Sometimes it finds little basons formed to || receive it, and again there are sinks |