in advance, continually assuring us that there was no danger so long as we held firmly to the rounds and did not look at our feet, and that we must not for our lives tread on the side plank, where the buzzing barrel-rope runs, and where two weeks ago a careless man was knocked down, unfortunately breaking his neck by the fall.  Far below is a confused rustling and humming, and we continually bump against beams and ropes which are in motion, winding up and raising barrels of broken ore or of water.  Occasionally we pass galleries hewn in the rock, called “stulms,” where the ore may be seen growing, and where some solitary miner sits the livelong day, wearily hammering pieces from the walls.  I did not descend to those deepest depths where it is reported that the people on the other side of the world, in America, may be heard crying, “Hurrah for Lafayette!” Between ourselves, where I did go seemed to me deep enough in all conscience; there was an endless roaring and rattling, uncanny sounds of machinery, the rush of subterranean streams, sickening clouds of ore-dust continually rising, water dripping on all sides, and the miner’s lamp gradually growing dimmer and dimmer.  The effect was really benumbing, I breathed with difficulty, and had trouble in holding to the slippery rounds.  It was not fright which overpowered me, but, oddly enough, down there in the depths, I remembered that a year before, about the same time, I had been in a storm on the North Sea, and I now felt that it would be an agreeable change could I feel the rocking of the ship, hear the wind with its thunder-trumpet tones, while amid its lulls sounded the hearty cry of the sailors, and all above was freshly swept by God’s own free air—­yes, sir!  Panting for air, I rapidly climbed several dozens of ladders, and my guide led me through a narrow and very long gallery toward the “Dorothea” mine.  Here it was airier and fresher, and the ladders were cleaner, though at the same time longer and steeper, than in the “Caroline.”  I felt revived and more cheerful, particularly as I again observed traces of human beings.  Far below I saw wandering, wavering lights; miners with their lamps came upwards one by one with the greeting, “Good luck to you!” and, receiving the same salutation from us, went onwards and upwards.  Something like a friendly and quiet, yet, at the same time, painful and enigmatical recollection flitted across my mind as I met the deep glances and earnest pale faces of these young and old men, mysteriously illuminated by their lanterns, and thought how they had worked all day in lonely and secret places in the mines, and how they now longed for the blessed light of day and for the glances of wives and children.