THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION. VOL. XIX. No. 542.] SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1832. [PRICE 2d. * * * * * [Illustration: ENTRANCE LODGE.] THE BEULAH SALINE SPA, NORWOOD. Our attention has been invited to the Beulah Spa by a _brochure_ lately published, from the very competent pen of Dr. George Hume Weatherhead; the details of which will be read with interest by all who are in quest of "healing founts." "The Spa," observes Dr. Weatherhead, "has long been resorted to by the country people of the neighbourhood, who, from experiencing its beneficial effects in a variety of diseases, have sustained its sanative character, and kept it from sinking into total neglect." We trust, however, that its virtues may soon enjoy more extensive celebrity, especially as the attractions of the scenery amidst which the spring is situate are of no common-place character, and the distance from the metropolis both easy and inviting. The Spa has already acquired some popularity; for, we learned on our visit a few days since, that, although it was only opened to the public towards the close of the month of August, in the past year, it was visited during the autumn by several hundred persons weekly. Dr. Weatherhead has described the local scenery with accuracy. Beulah, the estate upon which the spring is situate, is within the village of Norwood, seven miles south of London, upon one of those elevations known as the Norwood hills. "From trigonometrical observation," observes Dr. Weatherhead, "it has been computed that the height of these hills is about 390 feet above the level of the sea at low water.[1] Thus placed above the fogs of the 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