After having read to Sir Humphry till nearly ten, I set out, accompanied by three guides furnished with lamps and some pounds of candles. We walked across the fields for about a mile in darkness, the moon not having yet risen, till we came to a slight ascent which brought us to a door in the mountain. The guides here lighted their lamps, and cut the candles into bits, and unlocking the door, we entered and found ourselves in a low and dark passage. Two of the guides went on before with the candles, and I followed a few minutes after with the other, the only one of the three who spoke German. The passage brought us to the top of a rock, where we found ourselves in an immense vault, the roof and sides of which could not be distinguished by the eye. Below us, at the foot of the rock, we heard the rushing of a river, whose waters were invisible to us owing to the extreme darkness. We saw the other two guides upon a frail wooden bridge, which is thrown across this subterraneous stream, they having already lighted some of the candles, which they were engaged in fixing upon the side rail, and in a few minutes, more than thirty candles in some degree dispelled the darkness which surrounded us. The river became visible for about one hundred yards on each side of the bridge, flowing as it were out of total darkness above, and passing again into gloom and shade below it. The light however was by no means sufficient to enable me to discover the roof of this vast dome. It is a striking scene, but very different from any presented by the grotto of Corneale, and a poet might have thought the vault a banquetting room for the giants of old, or the council-chamber of Lucifer and his host; the dark and rushing water the gloomy river Styx, dividing him from the kingdom of Pluto, and have expected to see the grim ferryman appear with his boat. There was however no Charon to ferry us over, and we accordingly descended the steps in the rock, and crossed the river by the tottering and slippery bridge. A steep path cut in the rocks on the other side conducted us to the _Little Temple_, a small vault, whose roof and sides were covered with stalactites of the most varied and grotesque forms, hanging down from the roof, shooting out from the sides, or rising as stalagmites[F] from the floor, some pointed, some round, and others flat, thin, and transparent. In one part of this temple are inscribed the names of the strangers who have visited the grotto. From hence we went to the _Hall_, or _Place of the Tournament_, passing in another vault by the _Butcher's stall_, perhaps one of the most apt denominations of the many which the guides have given to the numerous larger masses of stalactite met with in these caverns. It stands alone, projecting from the walls of the vault, and somewhat resembles a pulpit in form. One of the guides enters this stall with a lamp, and illuminates the different joints of limestone meat, sausages, hams, &c., which hang around.