In every excursion around Bristol, the boys were struck with the fact that an old tower was visible on a high hill. The hill is called Dundry, and it is said that it can be seen every where for a circle of five miles round the city. Dundry is five miles from Bristol, and fourteen from Bath, and it commands the most beautiful and extensive prospect in the west of England. We rode out to it with an early friend of mine, who is now the leading medical man of Bristol; and when I tell you that we went in an Irish jaunting car, you may guess that we were amused. The seats are at the sides, and George was in ecstasies at the novelty of the vehicle. When oh the summit, we saw at the north and east the cities of Bath and Bristol, and our view included the hills of Wiltshire, and the Malvern Hills of Worcestershire. The Severn, from north to west, is seen, embracing the Welsh coast, and beyond are the far-famed mountains of Wales. The church has a fine tower, with turreted pinnacles fifteen feet above the battlements. We rode over to Chew Magna, a village two miles beyond Dundry. Here I went to a boarding school thirty-eight years ago, and I returned to the village for the first time. It had altered but little. The streets seemed narrower; but there was the old tower where I had played fives, and there was the cottage where I bought fruit; and when I entered it, Charley, I found "young Mr. Batt"-a man of eighty-six. His father used to be "old Mr. Batt," and he always called his son his "boy," and we boys termed him "young Mr. Batt." I came back and found him eighty-six. So do years fly away. I called on one old school-fellow, some years my junior. He did not recognize me, but I at once remembered him. We partook of a lunch at his house. I was sadly disappointed to find the old boarding school gone, but was not a little relieved when I heard that it had given place to a Baptist church. I confess I should have liked to occupy its pulpit for one Sabbath day. To-morrow we are to spend at Clifton, the beautiful environ of Bristol, and shall most likely write you again.
Clifton and the Hot Wells are the suburbs of this city, extending along for a mile or two on the banks of the Avon. One mile below the city the Avon passes between the rocks which are known as St. Vincent's on the one side, and Leigh Woods upon the opposite one. These rocks are amongst the sublimities of nature, and the Avon for about three miles presents the wildest and sweetest bit of scenery imaginable. These cliffs have been for ages the admiration of all beholders, and though thousands of tons are taken from the quarries every year, yet the inhabitants say that no great change takes place in their appearance. The Avon has a prodigious rise of tide at Bristol, and at low water the bed of the river is a mere brook, with immense banks of mud. The country all around is exquisitely attractive, and affords us an idea of cultivation and adornment beyond what we are accustomed to at home. In these rocks are found fine crystals, which are known every where as Bristol diamonds. We obtained some specimens, which reminded us of the crystals so frequently seen at Little Falls, on the Mohawk. The great celebrity of the Hot Wells is chiefly owing to a hot spring, which issues from the rock, and possesses valuable medical qualities.