rendered still more impressive by the roar of the waterfall in the left branch of the cavern. As far as the lake, the cave is of comparatively easy access, and has been repeatedly visited, but the subterranean course of the two brooks beyond was first explored by Dr. Schmidl. In the left or western branch of the cave, into which he penetrated to a distance of more than a mile, his boat had to be unloaded no less than eleven times on account of the reefs that obstructed its passage, while the explorers, wading through the water, dragged it over the shallows. Once even, where the navigation was interrupted by large masses of rock, under which the tumultuous waters disappear with a dreadful roar, they were obliged to take the little shallop to pieces, and to reconstruct it on the opposite side of the mound. The navigable part of this western branch ends in a circular dome, the floor of which is entirely filled with a lake 180 feet long, and from 40 to 45 feet deep. On the western bank of this lake, a chasm opens at the top of a mound of rubbish, the only place where it is possible to land. A violent gust of wind descends from this chasm, which, sloping upwards, soon narrows to a small crevice, through which the current of air sets in. To a lateral gallery, opening beyond the mouth of the chasm, Dr. Schmidl gave the name of ‘The Stalactital Paradise,’ on account of the uncommon beauty of the spar-crystals with which its walls were incrusted. It was the first time that the foot of man had ever penetrated into this charming laboratory of nature; no torch had ever soiled its brilliant decorations; no profane hand had ever damaged its gem-like tapestry. Here whole groups of stalagmitic cones, of all shapes and sizes, some like tiny icicles, others six feet high and as thick as a man’s waist, rose from the ground, while further on the brown wall formed a dark background, from which projected in bold relief the colossal statue of a sceptered king. Near the entrance stood a magnificent white figure, which fancy might have supposed to be a cherub with a flaming sword, menacing all those who should dare to injure the wonders which he guarded. ‘“The Stalactical Paradise” remained intact,’ says Dr. Schmidl.[18] ‘I begged my companions not to strike off the smallest piece of spar as a memorial of our visit, and they all joyfully consented. Our feet carefully avoided trampling down any of its delicate ornaments; we left it with no other memorial than our admiration of its beauty. The nymphs of the grot will no doubt have pardoned us for having intruded upon the sanctuary, where for countless centuries they had reigned in undisturbed solitude and silence.’ Footnote 18: ‘Die Höhlenkunde des Karstes.’ Wien, 1854.