of Stalactites, one of which was
called the Bell, which on being struck, sounded like the deep bell of
a cathedral; but it now no longer tolls, having been broken in twain
by a visiter from Philadelphia some years ago. Further on our way, we
passed Louisa's Bower and Vulcan's Furnace, where there is a heap, not
unlike cinders in appearance, and some dark colored water, in which I
suppose the great forger used to slake his iron and perhaps his bolts.
Next in order and not very distant are the new and old Register Rooms.
Here on the ceiling which is as smooth and white as if it had been
finished off by the plasterer, thousands of names have been traced by
the smoke of a candle--names which can create no pleasing associations
or recollections; names unknown to fame, and which might excite
disgust, when read for the first time on the ceiling which they have
disfigured.

[Illustration: STALAGMITE HALL OR GOTHIC CHAPEL.
On Stone by T. Campbell
Bauer & Teschemacher's Lith.]

Soon after leaving the old Register Room, we were halted by our guide,
who took from us all the lamps excepting one. Having made certain
arrangements, he cried aloud, "Come on!" which we did, and in a few
moments entered an apartment of surprising grandeur and magnificence.
This apartment or hall is elliptical in shape and eighty feet long by
fifty wide. Stalagmite columns, of vast size nearly block up the two
ends; and two rows of pillars of smaller dimensions, reaching from
floor to ceiling and equidistant from the wall on either side, extend
its entire length. Against the pillars, and in many places from the
ceiling, our lamps were hanging, and, lighting up the whole space,
exhibited to our enraptured sight a scene surpassingly grand, and well
calculated to inspire feelings of solemnity and awe. This is the
Stalagmite Hall, or as some call it, the Gothic Chapel, which no one
can see under such circumstances as did our party, without being
forcibly reminded of the old, very old cathedrals of Europe.
Continuing our walk we came to the Devil's Arm-Chair. This is a large
Stalagmite column, in the centre of which is formed a capacious seat.
Like most other visiters we seated ourselves in the chair of his
Satanic Majesty, and drank sulphur water dipped up from a small basin
of rock, near the foot of the chair. Further on we passed a number of
Stalactites and Stalagmites, Napoleon's Breast-Work, (behind which we
found ashes and burnt cane,) the Elephant's