in a little stream, which refreshed the rural town, by standing in the water and first rubbing over his shoes with his hands, and then, without washing them, performing similar ablutions on his face-a novel mode of cleansing, which called forth our laughter-declared "them coves as furriners, for he knewed it well by their mustaches."

Passing from Ashburton, however, we walked forward, by pleasant and sheltered lanes, towards the Holme-chace, which we reached about mid-day, and there, beneath the ancient arches of a most picturesque bridge, on a moss-covered rock, near and around which the bright waters of the Dart rushed onwards to the sea, we reposed for a time to revel in the beauties of nature, by which on all sides we were surrounded, and decide as to our forward ramble-in the mean time recording to memory, with the pencil, the varied little spots of wild beauty which more than others laid claim to our fancy, or touched the heart with gratitude to Him who thus, amid such solitude, had vouchsafed so many charms, to soothe, while they delight the mind through the eye of mortality.

Would that I were here permitted to offer some of those rough yet faithful recollections, by my pencil, to those far distant from such scenes, that they-and how many are they!-who live and labour day by day in the dense and heated City, yet who, perchance, may love the gems which nature and nature's God has showered on our native landproud England, might at least be carried there in thought; for the pencil, far more readily than the pen, can do thein justice.

Far up, the sparkling waters of the Dart, flowing over moss-clad rocks and stones, rolled rapidly to our feet; while the high and woodclad hills closed-in the rushing stream on all sides: the branches of knarled oaks and mountain ash, or linden trees, literally bathing their leaves in the clear and rapid river; while here and there a little mossclad shady bank, close to the water's brink, seemed to invite the weary traveller to repose.

And then the grey and fern-bedecked rocks glittered in the sun's rays, from the fissures of which here and there sprang high and gorgeously-coloured and sweet-smelling heather, aye, as high and luxuriant as that which grows on Athol's mountain sides, intermingled with many a wild rose and perfumed honeysuckle-cluster near the water's side, adding their varied beauties to this sylvan portal to the romantic valley of the chace, formed by nature as a glorious barrier to the wild hills of Dartmoor, which stretch far and wide beyond its limits.

But I fear my love for such scenes as these may perchance call forth a smile from those whose enthusiasm for nature's beauties will scarcely induce them to follow my footsteps. So let me turn to my companions; and while one of them uncases his rod, to whip for an hour the enticing stream with a gaudy fly-for, brother sportsmen, you may there soon fill your creel with rosy trout-I will wander back with my pen, my object being information to those who may have interest in the land to that point where this, probably the most beautiful of all Devonian rivers, joins its waters with the mighty ocean. And I do hope, inasmuch as our route being as it were towards its source, I may be enabled to lay it on a map before the mind's eye.

From the spot, then, where we had halted, the sparkling river flows

on through luxuriant plains, dense woodlands, over moss-clad rocks, by ancient castles and beauteous English homes, to Totness, where, meeting the briny tide, it rolls onwards in a wider course, through unrivalled scenery, to Dartmouth and ancient and truly romantic Leaport, whose harbour, sheltered by high and wood-clad hills, is one of the best in Europe. Many and many an hour has the royal yacht, with our beloved Sovereign on board, swan-like rested on its placid waters, undisturbed alike by wind or weather, while the rough waters of the Channel have dashed against the rocks at its entrance-a chosen and wellfavoured spot, to which hereafter I hope more particularly to refer.

I will not, however-for space will scarcely permit it-describe the peculiar residences of those persons who, from inheritance, chance, or taste, may have chosen their homes amid this wilderness of nature's beauties, through which we wandered: I will simply observe that numerous pleasing spots may be found, of ease and retirement, amid luxuriant foliage, as on positions that embrace all that the lover of picturesque scenery can desire to dwell amid. The guide-book to these pleasant abodes will, moreover, better than I can, detail their charms. Suffice that in one of the most lovely of them all it so chanced that a brother in arms, a gallant soldier, well known to us-alas! since deadhad pitched his tent, and we speedily came to the conclusion that we could scarecly pass so near to his retreat without paying our respects to him, as to his bitter ale and sparkling cider, or whichever of the three we might have the good fortune to find at home. This point being decided, and our knapsacks readjusted, we took one lingering look on the charming scene of our temporary bivouac, and passing as it were through the barriers of the Holme Chace, proceeded towards a peculiarly interesting residence, or cottage-ornée, built by and belonging to, I fancy, Sir Bouchier Wrey, but then inhabited by the aforesaid son of Mars, who had the rare taste-having seen much of the world both at home and abroad-to prefer this lonely retirement and all its sporting pleasures to the more usually selected excitement by contact with busy life; and for my own part I confess I can fancy few positions more agreeable to him who has the means of comfort and life's conveniences around him, and the wherewithal to go therefrom when duty or inclination calls: far more so when that home is made happy by the presence of those who share alike his hearth, his pursuits, and tastes; otherwise, farewell all appreciation of the beauties of nature when the winter storm arrives and the woodlands are leafless : farewell to the joys of early spring-time, or the rich luxuriance of midsummer time; farewell to long lines, rod in hand, by the sparkling trout-stream; farewell the excitement of the chase, or the whirrs of the woodcock, in these rural vales; farewell the joys of a country life.

But we now walk through overshadowing woods, whose base is interspersed with varied evergreens, alike in mid-winter as in midsummer, ever fresh and cheering. Merging therefrom the scene opens on our right. Behold forests which cover the hills to the very summit. The rushing Dart winds serpentlike over rock and pebble in its onward course right through the centre of the rich vale. And now we stand on a delightful and well-kept terrace before the soldier's home. Would that I were permitted to give the slightest pencil sketch of that truly English yet unrivalled landscape; for in these days, when the art of

wood-engraving runs side by side with steel, I feel our native land cannot be too extensively illustrated.

From the spot on which we stood, ere we approached the entrance, looking due south, the river wound tempting, and flashing through the vale, passed under the romantic stone bridge, near to which we had reposed, and was lost amid the woods in the far distance, hill beyond hill closing in the scene in cobalt hue. High above the rear of the cottage similar hills and woods protected it from the northern gales which in winter time rush wildly across the wilds of Dartmoor; while high up the vale to the east, woods and rocks of innumerable forms, broken by the varied hues of the mountain torrent, offer an unequalled barrier of combined beauty and wildness: the ever-flashing Dart still forcing its brilliant waters through the vale.

One short week ere we stood on that glorious scene, the Consort of our beloved Queen, ever ready to behold and learn, had passed through this southern glen of England, which not the wildness of Glenco, or the richness of Glenlyon, can surpass. The royal Prince, anxious to pass forward over Dartmoor, to inspect the prisons of Prince's Town, while the royal yacht lay in Dartmouth harbour, was so struck by the unexpected charms of the scene which there presented itself, that more than once he lingered by the wayside in admiration. And I must admit, that when, half-an-hour subsequent to our arrival, I strolled on a projecting rock, justly termed the "Raven rock,"-being in fact the point of a rugged pyramid of naturally formed immense stones, sheltered by self-grown rowan trees, or mountain ash, here and there bedecked by knee-deep flowery heather-and watched the varied windings and curvettings of the rushing bounding stream some hundred feet below me, as it forced its onward course like a silvery snake, while vast woodlands towered over my head, I felt that the scene was all but sublime, not the less so that, as we stood there, the bright sun, which hitherto had cheered us during our morning ramble, vanished behind a curtain of dark clouds, which came rolling onwards from the moor, forewarning us of a storm, which soon broke over the wild scene, with fearful peals of thunder and lightning-flashes which seemed to rend the very rocks asunder, influencing greatly the splendour of the scene.

At such, I can but think, though probably the effect of calm, bright sunshine may more forcibly call forth sentiment on other minds, that the most hardened, that the most thoroughly blazée with the world and its false joys, its paltry pleasures, pomp, and vanities, anxieties and cares, can hardly fail to feel some sympathy with nature; but with the pure and simple-hearted, the upright, the admirable, that feeling must be intense.

But yet, while I have been dwelling on all these fancies, though, forsooth, with me real feelings, I forget we are standing on the terrace of a stranger, or, at least, to me but an acquaintance, and looking on luxuriant vales owned by another. The sound of the door-bell, however, soon brought to our aid a civil and well-informed attendant, who, much to our regret, informed us his master was absent. Like master, however, like man, in this case; for he instantly permitted us an entry into this pleasing abode, which contained all the comforts which man ought to require, and many of those elegances which add to life's charms.

The front of the house, or cottage, looking due south from the terrace

towards vale and woodland, through which flowed the Dart I have already described, was composed of a drawing-room, dining-room, and conservatory-without and around which a magnificent magnolia bloomed in full flower, perfuming the soft summer air, while within the large luscious branches of grapes hung in thick clusters; while without, around, and about this sylvan abode, every species of flowering evergreen grew in rich luxuriance and beauty, proof sufficient of the mildness of our southern climate sought by the million beyond the white cliffs of perfide Albion.

sent.

But let us turn for a moment from the charms without to more refreshing realities within. True, for the moment, the master was abWhat then? his man was present; and more, he had the key of the cellar-door; and thus soon appeared before us a bottle or two of clear bitter ale, and others of sparkling cider, preferable in its excellence to the ordinary unwholesome beverage misnamed champagne, and to the throttles of dusty and tired knapsack wanderers, nectar. This being duly discussed, with our compliments and the empty bottles to their rightful owner, and accepted the civil offer of his man to be our guide through varied paths of the wooded glen up to the margin of the moor-an office to which we were much indebted to him, for we thereby saw all most worthy of being seen, with the least possible fatigue, moreover, without following the beaten track, by which the general traveller gains the heather land, and thus had a glorious ramble through this incomparable scene of nature's moulding.

Our first point of halting was that to which I have already alluded to as Raven Rock, and which, being on the left bank of the Dart, is, I fancy, more properly speaking, in what are termed Buckland Woods, the Chace being, properly speaking, on the right bank. However, a line may be here cast across the stream, and it is of itself the most sublime point of view in the vale or pass. Then walking through rich woodlands we descend nearer to the rolling waters of the Dart, where, standing, as the royal Prince had recently done, on a rock called "Lovers leap," which overhangs a deep pool formed by the deep dark waters-and truly he who desired to cool the ruling passion, would require but one plunge from its summit-walk onwards to Warrenbridge, a rude stone structure, which crosses the tributary mountain streams which there join, and falling over moss-clad rock and stone, bound foaming on to join the river's course-a picture which might well call forth the admiration of the artist, though some might pass it by as a mere eccentricity of nature.

Here, as I have said, the mountain streams join with the Dart, and enliven the Chace with constant sounds, as rushing and curvetting they leap from rock to rock, and then flow on in rapid calmness again to force their way through innumerable natural objects, till the river joins the ocean at Dartmouth.

Arrived at Warren's-bridge, our trusty and civil guide, pointing to hill over hill in the distance, said: "Yonder, gentlemen, about two miles distant, you will reach the moor. Leave Buckland House and church on your right, and in less than an hour the woodland scenery will change to one of utter wildness." Doubtless I have dwelt somewhat prosily, and for many at far too great a length, on the beauties of the Holmechace. For those, at least, who love not as I do the charming scenery of my fatherland, all I can say is this: I have wandered on the banks of the

Bosphorus; I have sailed down the Neva and lingered at Peterhoft, and the islands at St. Peters; I have sculled on the Po, and bathed in the Mincio; scarce an European city or mountain that I have not visited and looked on. The Rhine is my familiar friend; the vales of Switzerland my admiration; the woodland mountains of Spain, northern provinces, and the dreary open lands of New Castille, have received my foot-print. I have been here, I have been there, where my fellow-man has been-looked and admired to-day, lingered and been disgusted to

morrow.

But a week's ramble on the moors, as amid the woodlands of western England; a day's fishing in its mountain streams; a gallop across Exmoor after a wild red-deer, followed by a gallant pack; a walk across the fresh hills of Dartmoor, with its ever-varied scenes and distant views, has ever sent me homewards with some pleasure unalloyed, which lingers constantly in my heart, and calls me back, and though few visit these scenes, my sword, as my pen, is ever ready in the service of home, sweet home.

LITERATURE.

"SILK AND SCARLET." By the Druid. (Second Notice.) Rogerson and Tuxford, 246, Strand.

“Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis;" and not the least has been the change which has taken place in the manners, the habits, the costume of the sportsman, whether in silk or scarlet. We have no longer the Squire Beagle of Fielding's days, or the four-bottle man reeling into the drawing-room, Bacchi plenus" after a drunken revel; powdered hair and pigtails have given way to Macassar-oiled locks; flint and steel have been superseded by detonators; ramrods are discarded, and muzzle succumbs to breach loading. The followers of Nimrod are no longer satisfied with killing their fox after a fair hunting run, but denounce everything as "dead slow" which is not racing pace; while the lover of the "trigger" is not content with a bracing walk and a well-filled bag, but grumbles sadly if he cannot slaughter hundreds of pheasants driven up to him in the battue. Great, then, as these changes have been, they are not more striking than the wonderful alteration that has been brought about in sporting literature. We are now no longer called upon to pay a high price for an indifferent work, or to wade through a mass of unmitigated rubbish, which, to adopt a phrase of the surly pedant Dr. Johnson," did not possess vitality enough to preserve it from putrefaction:" yet such was the state of sporting literature at the commencement of the present century. Should any one be sceptical upon this point, let him take up one of the magazines devoted to field amusements from 1800 to 1820, and he will soon be convinced of the correctness of our views. He will find the work to contain a wretchedly-executed frontispiece of Saron, Harpalice, Narcissus, Actæon, or some other hero or heroine of the heathen mythology, with a most common-place