s not lofty, is supported by a number of pillars, in many places
forming Gothic arches, and running at somewhat regular distances,
dividing the church into aisles. These columns are actually enormous
stalactites, and the fresco of petrified water upon them has all the
appearance of the most rich and elaborate carving. In some places the
pillars of stone have not quite reached the ground, and remain suspended
from the roof. Other and smaller condensed stalactites resembled the
drooping rosettes which unite the spring of Gothic arches. In one
portion of the church is an enormous stone, carved out exactly like the
bishop's chair, or throne, usually seen on the high altar. The altar
itself is very like those primitive stone edifices sculptured by the
early Christians, when driven to celebrate their worship in the
catacombs of Rome.

This chamber is a marvellous freak of nature imitating art, for the hand
of man has never touched it or worked it into shape; yet if any one were
transported here unconsciously, he would, on looking round, imagine
himself in the chancel crypt of some old cathedral of the ninth or tenth
century. Some romantic lovers, evidently influenced by this idea, had
actually, a few weeks before our visit, arrived at the cave, accompanied
by their friends and the clergyman, and caused the marriage ceremony to
be performed in that very church. It was a whimsical idea, and must have
been a cold, comfortless, clammy affair; but the feelings and sentiment
about weddings totally differ in America from our European notions on
the subject,--rarely is it a joyous merry-making, rather the reverse, as
I have mentioned in a former chapter.

A few miles farther on, we came to the great natural marvel, the
subterranean river, with its buried water and eyeless fish, its
beautiful parterres of stone flowers and shrubs, like a garden covered
with morning hoar-frost. On this dismal river we were launched in a
little skiff, not the most seaworthy in the world,--and I must confess
to having experienced a feeling of dread of being upset on that
mysterious stream, whose outlet might be, for all we knew, in a region
we did not care to visit, or even to contemplate the possibility of
visiting. The echo had a thrill of awe that made one's flesh creep and
hair stand on end. If one called spirits there from the vasty deep, and
they did not come, yet they certainly answered from the dark shadows of
the rocks falling around the lurid