plain, and removed from the smoky and contaminated atmosphere
of the metropolis, the air has long been celebrated for its pure and
invigorating qualities." Norwood was in the memory of several of the
inhabitants still living, an entire forest of oaks, and the well-known
resort of tribes of gipsies.[2] The country from Camberwell thence is,
therefore, in great part a newly-peopled district. Its outline is very
uneven, perhaps more so than any other portion of the environs of the
metropolis. The road runs over or through many little crests or hills, and
sinks into sheltered valleys, where you see newly-built habitations
nestling together, and almost reminding one of the aboriginal contrivances
for warmth and comfort in less civilized countries. The road-side is set
with "suburban villas" which would make the spleen of Cowper blaze into
madness; though few of them exhibit any pretensions to elegance or
snugness. Neither would two newly-built churches in the prospect allay the
anti-urban poet; their starved proportions contrasting but coldly with the
primitive simplicity of a village church. The _country_ itself is
nevertheless picturesque; the prospect is of enchanting beauty, and as
you approach Beulah, you obtain occasional glimpses of the subjacent
valley which you enjoy more at leisure and at a _coup d'oeil_ in the Spa
grounds.

The Spring lies embowered in a wood of oaks, open to the south-west whose
dense foliage shelters and protects it. It is now the sole vestige of the
gipsy haunts, and comprises a space of more than twenty-five acres; the
gentle inclination of the ground keeping the foot-paths always dry.

We entered the grounds at an elegant rustic lodge (_see the Cut_,) where
commences a new carriage-road[3] to Croydon; which winds round the flank
of the hill, and is protected by hanging woods. The lodge is in the best
taste of ornate rusticity, with the characteristic varieties of gable,
dripstone, portico, bay-window, and embellished chimney: of the latter
there are some specimens in the best style of our olden architects. This
building, as well as the other rural edifices in the grounds, and the
whole disposal of the latter, have been planned by Mr. Decimus Burton, the
originator of the architectural embellishments of the Zoological Gardens
in the Regent's Park.

Passing the lodge, we descended by a winding path through the wood to a
small lawn or glade, at the highest point of which is a circular rustic
b