was afterwards entirely lost to our view. After passing this beautiful sheet of water a few yards, came to the end of this passage. We then returned about one hundred yards, and entered a small avenue (over a considerable mass of stone) to our right, which carried us south, through an uncommon black avenue, something more than a mile, when we ascended a very steep hill about sixty yards, which carried us within the walls of the fourth city, which is not inferior to the second, having an arch that covers at least six acres. In this last avenue, the further end of which must be four miles from the chief city, and ten from the mouth of the cave, are upwards of twenty large piles of salt petre earth on one side of the avenue, and broken limestone heaped up on the other, evidently the work of human hands. I had expected from the course of my needle, that this avenue would have carried us round to the chief city; but was sadly disappointed when I found the end a few yards from the fourth city, which caused us to retrace our steps; and not having been so particular in marking the entrances of the different avenues as I ought, we were very much bewildered, and once completely lost fifteen or twenty minutes. At length we found our way, and weary and faint, entered the chief city at ten at night. However, as much fatigued as I was, I determined to explore the cave as long as my lights held out. We now entered the fifth and last avenue from the chief city, which carried us southeast about nine hundred yards, when we entered the fifth city, whose arch covers upwards of four acres of level ground, strewed with broken limestones. Fire beds of uncommon size, with brands of cane lying around them, are interspersed throughout this city. We crossed over to the opposite side, and entered an avenue that carried us east about two hundred and fifty rods, when finding nothing interesting in this passage, we turned back, and crossed a massy pile of stone in the mouth of a large avenue, which I noticed, but a few yards from this last mentioned city, as we came out of it. After some difficulty in passing over this mass of limestone, we entered a large avenue whose walls were the most perfect of any that I saw, running almost due south for five hundred rods, and very level and strait, with an elegant arch. When at the end of this avenue, and while I was sketching a plan of the cave, one of my guides, who had been some time groping among the broken stone, called out, requesting me to follow him. I gathered up my papers and compass, and after giving my guide, who sat with me, orders to remain where he was until we returned, and moreover to keep his lamp in good order, I followed after the first, who had entered a vertical passage just large enough to admit his body. We continued stepping from one stone to another, until at last after much difficulty from the smallness of the passage, which is about forty feet in height, we entered upon the side of a chamber at least eighteen hundred feet in circumference, and whose arch is about one hundred and fifty high in its centre. After marking arrows (pointing downwards) upon the slab-stones around the little passage through which we had ascended, we walked forward nearly to the centre of this area. It was past midnight when I entered this chamber of eternal darkness, where all things are hush'd and nature's self lies dead.' I must acknowledge I felt a shivering horror at my situation, when I looked back upon the different avenues through which I had passed since I entered the cave at eight in the morning; and at that time o'night when church yards yawn, to be buried several miles in the dark recesses of this awful cavern-the grave, perhaps, of thousands of human beingsgave me no pleasant sensations. With the guide who was now with me, I took the only avenue leading from this chamber, and traversed it for the distance of a mile in a southerly direction, when my lamps forbid my going further, as they were nearly exhausted. The avenue, or passage, was as large as any that we had entered, and how far we might have travelled had our lights held out, is unknown. It is supposed by all who have any knowledge of this cave, that Green river, a stream navigable several hundred miles, passes over three branches of this cave. (To be concluded in the next.) The Grace of God Manifested. To the Editors of the Methodist Magazine. DEAR BRETHREN, If you think the following short account of Mary Ann Pool, of Boston, who died May 19, 1819, aged twelve years and eight months, to be worthy a place in the Magazine, it would be gratifying to those who knew her to see it published. This child received religious impressions when_about_ten years old, by attending to the instructions of Mr. D. Filmore in his catechetical meetings for children. She was brought cordially to embrace the Saviour, and delight in his ways.Reading the scriptures and other good books, was her delightful employment: she also loved prayer, and took much pleas ure in religious exercises, and often expressed to her mother how good pious people appeared to her. She said she loved them, and they looked quite different to her from others. When she heard that Mr. Oliver was to open his Sabbath School, near the North Church, she wanted very much to go, and hoped to derive as much pleasure and profit as she had by attending Mr. Filmore's instructions. She set out alone to find the school, and seeing children go into Salem-street Academy, she went in there by mistake; but liking the school she continued to go there steadily for some time. As she set out to go to the other school, she went, and found that none but boys were admitted at that time; so that she was content to go to the Academy. The next spring she attended the Sabbath School kept by Mr. Winchel's people. Here she committed her lessons well, and was particularly observed for her modest and serious attention, by Miss Callender, whose instructions she remembered with gratitude. In less than three months, while under the care of Miss C. she committed and repeated four hundred and sixteen verses of the scriptures. Mary was not talkative, but often observed to her mother she wished she could speak with more freedom and readiness when any one spoke to her on spiritual subjects. "I wish," said she, "I could speak what I feel!" As she delighted in going to meeting herself, she was anxious to have her young brothers and sister go, and to have them behave well; and often said to her mother, "Do tell them to be serious and mind what is said to them I know it makes the minister feel dreadfully to see the children so careless and inattentive; I wish they would consider and do better:-I see the tears come into the minister's eyes, and I know it is because his feelings are hurt that the children do not mind what is said to them." When she got a new book, a new lesson at Sunday School, or any thing which interested her own feelings, she would beg her mother to sit down, and hear her read or recite. The holy scriptures were very precious to her, and when in her last sickness, she often urged all the children in the family to learn to read them, and to pray to God to forgive their sins, and to help them to understand the scriptures, and to love and serve him in youth. In the autumn of 1818, she was in a declining state of health; and her mother was about to make the children's clothes for the winter, she said, Mam, you had better not make me any clothes till you see whether I get well; I think I shall never need any more gowns, and don't trouble yourself for me, Mam. As her sickness increased, her piety became more apparent. She was affected that she could not read the bible as formerly, and wanted the children to read to her. By her own desire Mr. Merritt baptised her, and she appeared to be wholly given up to God, and enjoyed peace, resignation, and a pleasing hope of heaven. When any one prayed with her, she was seriously devout, and was always observed to say Amen at the close, and sometimes Amen and Amen. The writer of this article conversed and prayed with her frequently, and ever found (though her words were few) the greatest satisfaction in her ap parent sincerity and piety. To mention the dreams of a child may, to many, appear childish; but the two following are only mentioned to show that her mind was exercised, sleeping and waking, on subjects of a spiritual nature. One afternoon, previous to an evening lecture, she asked her mam if she was going to meeting in the evening; and told her she had better go. "I am afraid to leave you, Mary," said her mother. "O mam, do go; you can put me to bed before night-I shall do well enough-Pa will be at home to see to me if I should have an ill turn. Do go, mam, you don't know what good you may get," &c. Her mother accordingly got her to bed before she got the family's supper; and while clearing away things after tea, she heard Mary singing a hymn so loud and strong that she spake to her and told her not to sing so loud, as it would hurt her stomach. She, however, did not mind what was said; but soon struck into another hymn, and sung so loud that her mother stepped towards the bed, and said, "My dear Mary, don't sing so loud; do leave off now, for it will hurt your stomach." But on drawing near the bed she found her in a sound sleep, and large drops of sweat standing on her face. Mrs. Pool sat down by her, and wiped her face, &c. and she lay still a short time, but did not wake, but began very clearly and deliberately to tell what a beautiful meeting she had been at. She said Mr. G. Pickering preached. Now, said she, if you will sit down and attend. I will get the bible and read the text. And after a short time she began, and said the text was in the 1 Corinthians, 13th chapter, 3d verse. She said she would read the chapter, and began and repeated the whole clearly and distinctly; and when she came to the 12th verse, she appeared to be quite affected, as if anticipating the time of her departure to be at hand, when she should see face to face, and know even as she was known. Mrs. Pool went to meeting, and before she came home Mary awoke and asked for her; and being told she had not come from meeting-Well, said Mary, meeting is done, for I have been to meeting, and it was a good meeting, &c. Her sis ter told her she had been dreaming. She was remarkably happy, and seemed to enjoy the whole scene as much as if she had in reality been to meeting. Her singing appears to have been a part of the exercises of the meeting she had so comfortably enjoyed, and about which she conversed with inexpressible satisfaction. It ought to have been noticed, that when awake she VOL. II. 49 could not repeat the chapter, and did not remember ever to have learned it. At another time she awoke in the night, and told her mother she had been at a blessed meeting, where she saw almost an innumerable company of happy souls, and some that were in distress, and came forward to be prayed for; and many joined the church. She told what hymns were sung at the opening of the meeting, before and after sermon. She said Mr. Mudge preached from Romans, fifth chapter and first verse, "Being therefore justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. She said the last hymn sung was that, page 157, first book How happy every child of grace, Her delight seemed almost raised to rapture while conversing with her mother on the subjects with which she had been entertained. Indeed, it was often so when she had an opportunity of attending religious worship, and talking of it to her mother afterwards. It appears she had felt anxious to speak something more freely and fully on religious subjects to the family, and to others who came in to see her- As she saw death approaching, she became more solicitous, and took every opportunity to speak, as her strength would admit; urging the necessity of reading the scriptures and prayer. "If," said she, " you can only read one verse, and mind that, it will do you good; for I now find it good for me that I read when I was well. You don't know how soon you may be sick as I am, and then you can't read. You must seek the Lord by reading his word, and by praying to him every day to forgive your sins." And in seveinstances she would not be satisfied until the persons to whom she was speaking promised her they would attend to it. The last words she spake in way of advice was to her mother, to try to live a life of piety, and to read and pray every day.Her mother being affected, and not telling her clearly that she would, she urged it again, and said, "You will, main, won't you?" and when her mother replied that she would endeavour so to do, she put her hands together and exclaimed, " bless the Lord, O my soul," and spake no more, only requested to be turned on her back to die, and endeavouring to close her own eyes, the lamp of life went out, leaving a sweet savour of the holy oil of grace. Her patience, resignation, and tranquility were remarkable-Her attempting to sing the praises of God |