by Professor Locke, oulophilites, or curled leafed stone; and in remarking upon them, he says, “They are unlike any thing yet discovered; equally beautiful for the cabinet of the amateur, and interesting to the geological philosopher.”  And I, although a wanderer myself in various climes, and somewhat of a mineralogist withal, have never seen or heard of such.  Apprehensive that I might, in attempting to describe much that I have seen, color too highly, I will, in lieu thereof, offer the remarks of an intelligent clergyman, extracted from the New York Christian Observer, of a recent date:  “The most imaginative poet never conceived or painted a palace of such exquisite beauty and loveliness, as Cleveland’s Cabinet, into which you now pass.  Were the wealth of princes bestowed on the most skilful lapidaries, with the view of rivaling the splendors of this single chamber, the attempt would be vain.  How then can I hope to give you a conception of it?  You must see it; and you will then feel that all attempt at description, is futile.”  The Cabinet was discovered by Mr. Patten, of Louisville, and Mr. Craig, of Philadelphia, accompanied by the guide Stephen, and extends in nearly a direct line about one and a half miles, (the guides say two miles.) It is a perfect arch, of fifty feet span, and of an average height of ten feet in the centre—­just high enough to be viewed with ease in all its parts.  It is incrusted from end to end with the most beautiful formations, in every variety of form.  The base of the whole, is carbonate (sulphate) of lime, in part of dazzling whiteness, and perfectly smooth, and in other places crystallized so as to glitter like diamonds in the light.  Growing from this, in endlessly diversified forms, is a substance resembling selenite, translucent and imperfectly laminated.  It is most probably sulphate of lime, (a gypsum,) combined with sulphate of magnesia.  Some of the crystals bear a striking resemblance to branches of celery, and all about the same length; while others, a foot or more in length, have the color and appearance of vanilla cream candy; others are set in sulphate of lime, in the form of a rose; and others still roll out from the base, in forms resembling the ornaments on the capitol of a Corinthian column. (You see how I am driven for analogies.) Some of the incrustations are massive and splendid; others are as delicate as the lily, or as fancy-work of shell or wax.  Think of traversing an arched way like this for a mile and a half, and all the wonders of the tales of youth—­“Arabian Nights,” and all—­seem tame, compared with the living, growing reality.  Yes, growing reality; for the process is going on before your eyes.  Successive coats of these incrustations, have been perfected and crowded off by others; so that hundreds of tons of these gems lie at your feet, and are crushed as you pass, while the work of restoring the ornaments for nature’s boudoir, is proceeding around you.  Here and there, through the whole extent,