The famed cavern in Kentucky is as well worthy of a visit as any subterranean region. Of late years an hotel has been built near the entrance, detracting from its once romantic appearance. Visitors first descend a well-like pit, into which a stream falls, by a flight of steps, and then passing under a high archway, proceed along a level road, to what are called the vats, where saltpetre was once manufactured. Their blazing torches, numerous as they may be, hardly light up the vast subterranean region. From the large hall they make their way through a low narrow passage, known as the "Vale of Humility," into another hall of enormous extent, the roof so lofty that the torches scarcely illuminate either the walls or roof. At their feet can be seen the glitter of water, extending far away into the interior, a bright stream flowing over a rocky bed into it. Moving on, they in a short time reach Echo River, on the shore of which a boat is found. When looking upwards, it appears as if a canopy of black clouds hung over their heads. On either side can be seen precipitous cliffs, rising apparently into the sky. Silence and darkness reign around, the smooth sluggish water alone reflecting the glare of the torches. The visitors are not disposed to utter a word, until the voice of one of the native guides suddenly bursts forth into a melancholy chant, which seems as if echoed by the spirit of his departed brethren. Now the notes rise, now they fall, as he gives them forth with the full force of his lungs, or warbles softly, finishing with a melancholy wail, which produces a most mournful effect. When a pistol is fired off, there comes a succession of crashing thundering sounds, echoed from every angle of this enormous vault; backwards and forwards they rush, roaring and reverberating from wall to wall with terrific crashes. The guides say it is perfectly safe at all times of the year to traverse the cavern, but there have been occasions when the waters, rising suddenly, have prevented the return of explorers. A way, however, was at length discovered through a narrow passage, the course evidently, at one time, of a stream, up which they can climb over the mud, and save themselves from being drowned or starved. This passage has appropriately been called "Purgatory." In one part the river expands into a lake, the gloomy effect of whose dark waters, lost in the darkness, is indescribable. Leaving Echo River, they enter another cavern, known as Cleveland Cabin--a fairy region. Above their heads, and on either side, the roof and walls are adorned with delicate flowers, of snowy whiteness, and domes, turrets, spires, shrubs, and trees, as well as with the forms of birds and beasts of all descriptions; indeed, figures of every shape which imagination, without any great exertion, can picture, appear around. The representations of some are so perfect, that it is difficult to believe that they have not