The place where they are set down here is perfectly dark, but the miner strikes fire, and lights a small lamp, by means of which (taking the stranger he has care of by the arm) he leads him through a number of strange passages and meanders, all descending lower and lower, till they come to certain ladders by which they descend an immense depth, and this through passages perfectly dark. The damp, cold, and darkness of these places, and the horror of being so many yards under ground, generally makes strangers heartily repent before they get thus far; but when at bottom they are well rewarded for their pains, by a sight that could never have been expected after so much horror. (_The conclusion in our next._) * * * * * * * * * [[This serial began in No. 45 of the New-York Weekly; the last 4 of its 12 installments are in Volume II. For sources, see the end of the final (4th) installment.]] THE FATAL EFFECTS OF INDULGING THE PASSIONS, Exemplified in the History of M. De La Paliniere. _Translated from the French._ (Continued from page 410 of Vol. I.) I informed her of my determination, assuring her, at the same time, it was irrevocable. I confess, however, notwithstanding my certitude, at moments, of her hatred, I secretly flattered myself, that this declaration would astonish, and produce a most lively emotion in Julia; and it is certain, had I discovered the least signs of regret on her part, I should have cast myself at her feet, and abjured a resolution which pierced my very soul. I was deceived in supposing myself hated; I was equally wrong in imagining my conduct could inspire even momentary love. Great minds are incapable of hatred; but a continued improper and bad conduct will produce indifference, as it did with Julia. I had lost her heart past recal. She heard me with tranquility, without surprize, and without emotion. My reputation, said she, is already injured, and this will confirm the unjust suspicions of the public; but if my presence is an obstacle to your happiness, I am ready to depart; my innocence is still my own, and I shall have sufficient strength to submit to my fate. Cruel woman! cried I, shedding a torrent of tears, with what ease do you speak of parting! Is it not your own proposal! And is it not I who adore you, and you who hate me! Of what benefit is your love to me; or of what injury is what you call my hatred to you? I have made you unhappy; I am unjust, capricious, mad; and yet if you do hate me, Julia, your revenge is too severe; there is no misery can equal your hatred. I do not hate you.