appearance of this spacious cavern is truly sublime, as it is seen by the glimmering light of variously stained glass, throwing its lurid and sepulchral faintness on the massive pillars, till at length the grotto is entered with all its brilliance: It consists of a very extensive excavation, finely fretted to its termination with a profusion of rich petrifactions, shells, and marine productions. In one of its awful recesses, through an iron grate, is seen the figure of a British Druid, in complete costume, passing amid the massy pillars, in a dim and green light.—After various windings, a door suddenly opens in the summit of the precipice, where, over the shelving rocks below, and far above the highest forests, a scene of magnificence bursts on the eye exceeding almost conception. This height is with some difficulty descended by innumerable winding steps cut in the solid rock. A SCENE in SWITZERLAND is presented here on the heathy summit of one of the mountains, where a narrow plank bridge crosses a deep chasm, and connects two rocks of terrific height and cragginess. The terrace formed on the ridge of one of the hills, finely wooded, is terminated by an octagon summer-house, that commands a prospect of astonishing extent, from whence the bordering mountains of Wales, with parts of no less than 13 counties, are distinctly enumerated.—Near this place is a Column, 112 feet high, surmounted with a colossal statue of sir Rowland Hill, the first protestant lord mayor of London, in 1550, the 3rd year of Edward VI. In a most romantic glen, near this place, is an Urn, erected by the late sir Richard Hill, purporting that it was the hiding-place of one of his ancestors, during the civil wars of Edward I. while his house was ravaged by the parliament soldiers; but that his son speedily came to his assistance: the approach to and from it now is much facilitated, without destroying the wildness of the scene, by extensive passages and steps. Beyond this is a well-stocked Menagerie of living Animals, principally birds.—From hence, round the sudden and abrupt corner of a rock, and through the cleft body of an old oak, is entered one of the sweetest vallies imagination can tint, and most properly called ELYSIUM: It is bounded completely by wooded and inaccessible rocks, and can only be entered at this narrow passage, or at the extreme termination of its extent, about half a mile.—On the most western of this group of rocks are the remains of RED CASTLE, built in the reign of Henry III., though it is mentioned by this name in a grant as ancient as William the Conqueror. It is now in awful ruins; but lofty fragments of its walls form some of the most picturesque beauties of this romantic place; and fling on the mind, if such scenes needed it, the additional charm of that strange feeling that antiquity and fallen grandeur never fail to excite. Amid these towers is a well of surprising depth; called now the GIANT’S WELL.