Croghan, at a great expense,) leaves the Turnpike, and joins it again at the Dripping Springs, eight miles below, on the route to Nashville. This road, in going from Louisville to Nashville, is not only the shortest by three and a half miles, but to the Cave it is from ten to twelve miles shorter than the one taken by visiters previous to its construction. It therefore lessens the inconvenience, delay and consequent expense to which travelers were formerly subjected. The road itself is an excellent one, the country through which it passes highly picturesque, and Dr. Croghan has entitled himself to the gratitude of the traveling community by his liberality and enterprise in constructing it. Persons visiting the Cave by Steamer, (a boat leaves Louisville for Bowling-Green every week) will find much to interest them in the admirable locks and dams, rendering the navigation of Green river safe and good at all seasons for boats of a large class. Passengers can obtain conveyances at all times and at moderate rates, from Bowling-Green, by the Dripping Spring, to the Cave, distant twenty-two miles. Fifteen miles of this road is M'Adamized, the remainder is graded and not inferior to the finished portion. The last eight miles from the Dripping Spring to the Cave, cannot fail to excite the admiration of every one who delights in beholding wild and beautiful scenery. A visit to the Cedar Springs on this route, is alone worth a journey of many miles. Passengers on the upper turnpike, from Bardstown to Nashville, can, on reaching Glasgow, at all times procure conveyances to the Cave, either by Bell's or by Prewett's Knob. Arrived at the Cave, the visitor alights at a spacious hotel, the general arrangements, attendance and _cuisine_ of which, are adapted to the most fastidious taste. He feels that as far as the "creature comforts" are necessary to enjoyment, the prospect is full of promise; nor will he be disappointed. And now, this first and most important preliminary to a traveler settled to his perfect content, he may remain for weeks and experience daily gratification, "_Stephen_ his guide," in wandering through some of its two hundred and twenty-six avenues--in gazing, until he is oppressed with the feeling of their magnificence, at some of its forty-seven domes,--in listening, until their drowsy murmurs pain the sense, to some of its many water-falls,--or haply intent upon discovery, he hails some new vista, or fretted roof, or secret river, or unsounded lake, or crystal fountain, with as much rapture as Balboa, from "that peak in Darien," gazed on the Pacific; he is assured that he "has a poet," and an historian too. Stephen has linked his name to dome, or avenue, or river, and it is already immortal--in the Cave.