al
nearly a mile long, to give the water vent; and the discharge by it
continues to this day. The abbey is now untenanted, and is in a
deplorable state of ruin; it was once celebrated for its hospitality and
a fine gallery of pictures; all, however, have vanished, and the ruins
are now the property of M. Delius, a magistrate of Treves. The situation
is so beautiful, surrounded as it is with fine timber, that one would
suppose it worth his while to repair the place, particularly as stone is
so plentiful in the neighbourhood. It forms, however, as it is, a
picturesque addition to the interest of the excursion to the lake, I
returned by the mineral spring of Heilbrunn, well satisfied with my
inspection of the country. The distance from Brohl to the abbey is
little more than five miles, and it is one which I would advise all
tourists on the Rhine to make if they have time, whether they be
geologists or non-geologists. I fancied I had a clearer conception of.
Aetna and Vesuvius, and the living fires, from having witnessed the
funnels of the extinct ones. At all events, though little is known as to
the causes of volcanic phenomena, enough is ascertained to convince us
that subterranean fire exists under the whole of Europe, there not being
one country or district exempt from occasional earthquakes, or some such
signs of terror.

D.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK

GARDEN OF BREMHILL PARSONAGE.

_The Residence of the Rev. W. L. Bowles._

The garden contains upwards of two acres, with a gravel-walk under the
windows. A Gothic porch has been added, the bow-windows being surmounted
with the same kind of parapet as the house, somewhat more ornamental. It
lies to the morning sun; the road to the house, on the north, enters
through a large arch. The garden is on a slope, commanding views of the
surrounding country, with the tower of Calne in front, the woods of
Bowood on the right, and the mansion and woods of Walter Heneage, Esq.
Towards the south. The view to the south-east is terminated by the last
chalky cliffs of the Marlborough downs, extending to within a few miles
of Swindon. In the garden, a winding path from the gravel-walk, in front
of the house, leads to a small piece of water, originally a square pond.

This walk, as it approaches the water, leads into a darker shade, and
descending some steps, placed to give a picturesque appearance to the
bank, you enter a kind of cave, with