asunder! and away flew the mettlesome animals as fast as their heels would carry them. _Now_, we plunged onward as if driving through the mountain forest,--then, suddenly turning, rolled at some distance on the margin of a frightful precipice, each moment expecting to be dashed headlong down its angry side. Here gliding as swiftly as an arrow over a tolerably smooth surface, and there jolting and rattling over some rocky gutter, which communicated its jarring vibration to each sensitive nerve--and then what confusion and consternation within! There was my unlucky self, for example, tossed to and fro, in a manner which reminded me of poor Sancho in the memorable blanket scene. First thrown in one direction, I found one of my elbows actually goring the side of a stout nullifier from the Palmetto State--then hurled to the opposite point of the compass by another pitch of the coach, I found myself in the act of suffocating a little New Yorker, whom I took to be an abolitionist. Next, by another cross movement, I detected myself almost in the lap of a fat middle aged lady, who weighed at least thirty pounds more than myself, and presently I came almost in contact with the lips of a rosy cheeked damsel of seventeen, who was about to make her _debut_ at the White Sulphur. And then what a crowding and jostling of knees, and what a thumping and bruising of shins! The ladies screamed--the nullifier roared and threatened, and the little Manhattaner protested that in case of any serious accident to the party, the coroner's inquest would be murder in the first degree against both the driver and proprietor. As for me, I confess that my thoughts were multitudinous and not very delightful. First I thought of Capt. John Gilpin, and wished most heartily that I might come off as well as that renowned officer of the London militia--then I thought of that silly old fellow Phoebus, who from paternal weakness alone committed the reins of his golden chariot to a foolish boy, and lastly I was harrowed in imagination at the terrible idea of Ixion revolving forever on his infernal wheel. Neither did I forget that classical sentence which flashed across my memory, and which I fear is too true in more senses than that in which the poet used it-- _Facilis descensus Averni_, &c. Fortunately, however, the genius of terror passed over us without exacting any of the usual sacrifices of broken bones and dislocated limbs, and in a short time our Palinurus (who to do him the justice performed his part handsomely) landed us in front of the spacious portico of the Warm Spring Hotel.