Immediately beneath you are the grounds of the Spa, every portion of which
can be distinctly traced from this spot: the lodge, lawn, refreshment-room,
spring, and orchestra, as we have described them, and the paths winding
among the woods till they disappear as it were in trackless solitude.

Dr. Weatherhead's pamphlet treats copiously, but in a popular style, of
the medicinal properties of the Spa. The terms for drinking the waters are
furnished at the lodge, where the visiter may smile at the remedy being
_set to music_, in the melodies of the Beulah Spring Quadrilles. It may
prevent some disappointment by stating that the Grounds are not opened to
the public on Sundays.


[1] By accurate observation the height of the fog, relatively with
the higher edifices, whose elevation is known, it has been
ascertained that the fogs of London never rise more than from
two hundred to two hundred and forty feet above the same level.

[2] Who does not remember the traditionary notoriety of Margaret
Finch?

[3] The private property of the estate, and attached to the Spa.


[4] We drank a half-pint tumbler of the water, which, as Dr.
Weatherhead observes, is bitter without being disagreeable.
Its flavour is that of Sulphate of Magnesia, or _Epsom Salts;_
and we should say that our _modicum_ might be imitated by
dissolving a dram of the above ingredient in half-a-pint of
pure water.