Archimedes is the largest crater in the group; it has a diameter of upwards of 52 miles, measuring from summit to summit of its vast circular rampart or crater wall, the average height of which, above the plateau, is about 4300 feet; but some parts of it rise considerably higher, and, in consequence, cast steeple-like shadows across the plateau when the sun’s rays are intercepted by them at a low angle. The plateau of this grand crater is devoid of the usual central cone. Two comparatively minute but beautifully-formed craters may be detected close to the north-east interior side of the surrounding wall of the great crater. Both outside and inside of the crater wall may be seen magnificent examples of the landslip subsidence of its overloaded banks; these landslips form vast concentric segments of the outer and inner circumference of the great circular rampart, and doubtless belong to its era of formation. Two very fine examples of cracks, or chasms, may be observed proceeding from the opposite external sides of the crater, and extending upwards of 100 miles in each direction; these cracks, or chasms, are fully a mile wide at their commencement next the crater, and narrow away to invisibility at their further extremity. Their course is considerably crooked, and in some parts they are partially filled by masses of the material of their sides, which have fallen inward and partially choked them. The depths of these enormous chasms must be very great, as they probably owe their existence to some mighty upheaving action, which there is every reason to suppose originated at a profound depth, since the general surface on each side of the crater does not appear to be disturbed as to altitude, which would have been the case had the upheaving action been at a moderate depth beneath. We would venture to ascribe a depth of not less than ten miles as the most moderate estimate of the profundity of these terrible chasms. If the reader would realize the scale of them, let him for a moment imagine himself a traveller on the surface of the moon coming upon one of them, and finding his onward progress arrested by the sudden appearance of its vast black yawning depths; for by reason of the angle of his vision being almost parallel to the surface, no appearance of so profound a chasm would break upon his sight until he came comparatively close to its fearful edge. Our imaginary lunar traveller would have to make a very long détour, ere he circumvented this terrible interruption to his progress. If the reader will only endeavour to realize in his mind’s eye the terrific grandeur of a chasm a mile wide and of such dark profundity as to be, to all appearance, fathomless—portions of its rugged sides fallen in wild confusion into the jaws of the tortuous abyss, and catching here and there a ray of the sun sufficient only to render the darkness of the chasm more impressive as to its profundity—he will, by