Through the midst of this plain lies the great road to the mouth of the mine. This road is always filled with carriages loaded with masses of salt out of the farther part of the mine, and carrying them to the place where the rope belonging to the wheel receives them. The drivers of these carriages are all merry and singing, and the salt looks like a load of gems. The horses kept here are a very great number, and when once let down, they never see the day-light again; but some of the men take frequent occasions of going up and breathing the fresh air. The instruments principally used by the miners are pick-axes, hammers, and chissels: with these they dig out the salt in forms of huge cylinders, each of many hundred weight. This is found the most convenient method of getting them out of the mine, and as soon as got above ground, they are broken into smaller pieces, and sent to the mills, where they are ground to powder. The finest sort of the salt is frequently cut into toys, and often passes for real crystal. This hard kind makes a great part of the floor of the mine, and what is most surprising of all in the whole place is, that there runs constantly over this, and through a large part of the mine, a spring of fresh water, sufficient to supply the inhabitants and their horses, so that they need not have any from above ground. The horses usually grow blind after they have been some little time in the mine, but they do as well for service afterwards as before. After admiring the wonders of this amazing place, it is no very comfortable remembrance to the stranger, that he is to go back again through the same dismal way he came. [[Sources: Earlier publication: “The New magazine of knowledge concerning Heaven and Hell, and the Universal World of Nature” Vol. I, June 1790 Background: The Polish spelling is Wieliczka. The salt mines are currently a major tourist attraction.]] * * * * * * * * * THE FATAL EFFECTS OF INDULGING THE PASSIONS, Exemplified in the History of M. De La Paliniere. _Translated from the French._ (Continued from page 3.) How shall I describe my feelings at reading this letter! Oh, Julia! cried I, lovely, adorable woman! Is it possible! O God! Can it be that I have accused you of perfidy!--have done every thing in my power to dishonour you!---have abandoned you! What! a heart so delicate, so noble, did I once possess, and have I lost it! Oh misery! I might have been the happiest of men; I am the most wretched. And can I, in my present circumstances, accept the generous pardon thou offerest! O, no! Better die than so debase myself! No, Julia, though thou mayest truly accuse me of extravagance and injustice, thou never shalt have reason to suspect me of meanness. Streams of tears ran down my cheeks, while I reasoned thus. I wrote twenty answers, and tore them all: at last I sent the following: