like learning to read and write?" "Nao," again. "What makes you learn then?" "Master thrashes us." This "thrashing" system which has been so often tried, is, I am afraid not the most effectual method of making learning agreeable. Since the above pithy conversation, a less peremptory, but more seductive plan of tuition has been tried at Walkhampton under the active and benevolent exertions of the clergyman of the village. I have no doubt the children now make no difficulty of learning their lessons, without the aid of the flail or the thrashing floor. We visited the church at Walkhampton, which is placed, as so many are, on a hill; although the frequent accidents on steeples and towers have shown the danger of such an elevated situation, yet there was good taste in planting the tabernacle on a mount, whence so many fair prospects could be descried; which all eyes could discern; and whose cheerful bells could meet every ear. It is curious to notice how much the memory of particular words is associated with places. I remember that the graves of the rude forefathers" brought to our recollection Gray's noble "Elegy," and we went on repeating verse by verse, and discussing its merits, until we reached the moorland precincts of Sheepstor. There is little to interest in the place; a few scattered houses around the antique and weather beaten church completing the whole village: but a fine cascade is near, and the rounded tor, forms one of the most remarkable granite heaps on Dartmoor. Not far from this tor, up a lofty eminence called Ailsborough were once extensive tin mines. Sheepstor itself is said to be very rich in minerals, and pieces of gold have been discovered in the neighboring We enjoyed the prospect from the summit of the mountain, and trod the crisp turf, which sparkled beneath our feet, with spirits highly exhilarated by the pure ether. Whoever has inhaled the clear frosty air, in such an elevated situation, will enter into the enjoy

66

streams.

P

ment we then experienced. Our minds glowed as well as our frames, and we quite regretted the short stay we were enabled to make in the upland regions on a winter's day. Our steps were directed to a certain hole denominated the "pixies cave," and celebrated as having been the hiding place of one of the Elford family, in the parliamentary war; it is mentioned as such in Mrs. Bray's interesting novel of Warleigh; but its dimensions would rather point it out as the haunt of the fairy folk. We fancied we discovered this retreat in a small natural pent-house formed by some projecting stones, but have since been informed that Elford's cave is in an almost inaccessible point of the rock. Be that as it may, we were well pleased at the moment with the spot we found. As at the mouth of Mohammed's cave, a spider had spun its web; the effect of the frost on this delicate fabric was most beautiful; it was a proper grating for the Pixie's den. Not having sufficient curiosity to enter the charmed cell, cunningly guarded by a sly Arachne, we descended to the village inn, the rudest I ever entered, and warmed ourselves by a peat fire after our ramble. The little farmers were dropping in before we left the house, to enjoy a Saturday evening's "pint o' ale," and our male companions entered into conversation with them, on the various political occurrences of the day. They seemed to have very odd notions of things; had never heard of events which were common in the mouths of all civilized communities;-indeed, their ignorance was surprising; and it is lamentable to observe that this want of knowledge still continues in these remote districts amongst the agricultural class. Their shrewdness, which might be ripened into intelligence, degenerates into cunning; their better qualities are seldom called into exercise; their chief accomplishment consists in overreaching their neighbors; extreme poverty generally attends their lot; they are compelled frequently to

sell their farming stock, in order to pay the backward rent of their farms; their food is coarse in the extreme, their only butcher's meat being pork of their own feeding; they have none of the modern comforts of life in their miserable barnlike cottages. I have been into many farm houses in the vicinity of the moor, in which the same entrance led to the cow-house and the kitchen; the one being on the right hand, the other on the left; whilst a pile of turf for winter consumption, almost blocked up the narrow doorway; the kitchen was blackened by the smoke of ages which hung in sooty wreaths from the low rafters; a flight of broken stone steps led to a room above, where two half-furnished beds were canopied by the ivy which intruded, unceremoniously, through the wide chinks of the wall, by which the light of heaven also entered. Large holes in the rough and sunken boards, disclosed the proceedings in the kitchen below. One large chest contained the Sunday clothes, and other treasures of the family. A dresser in the kitchen displayed a few articles of crockery ware. for books, there were none to be seen, except a torn Testament and Prayer-book on the window sill, belonging to some wise one of their relatives "who could read!" The scattered leaves of these desecrated volumes, were frequently found occupying the place of a broken window pane, together with some ragged children's dresses which were past mending, or which-never had been mended. The sluttish appearance of the wives who often lay in bed, "to keep out th' cold," and the slovenly aspect of the men, who were too busy in running after their stray cattle, to mend the fences by which they had broken out, fully accounted for the dirt and poverty to be traced in every direction. This miserable picture is still presented in some of our moorland districts, and the worst is that these people are contented. They are contented to wade on their way through dirt and filth, and to "drag up"

As

their children in the same dark road.

Indeed their instincts seem little raised above those of the brute creation.

66 'They eat, and drink, and sleep ;-what then?

"They eat, and drink, and sleep again.

Is it wonderful that these ignorant tenants are driven by hordes at the time of the election to vote for whom the landlord may chuse?—or that they sometimes forget their lesson, and repeat the wrong name, as has often been done when they come to the poll? Almost their only acquaintance with a town, is on a market day, when they jog along on their meagre steeds, often returning home in the evening in a state of intoxication. * There is a great reformation to take place in our agricultural districts, before they keep pace with the intelligence of the age. The powerful hand of well-directed instruction is required, to raise our petty agriculturists in the scale of humanity. The Methodists have been pioneers in this good work among them, as well as among the miners. They have awakened a desire of improvement in some parts; the same may be done in others. May they be directed in their efforts for the welfare of their benighted brethren. At any rate let them instil the principles of honesty and goodwill. Above all an enlightened morality is to be enforced, for it is a melancholy fact, that vice and crime, (proceeding probably from extreme ignorance,) is almost as rife in these remote parts, as in the crowded and depraved haunts of a city. Sheep-stealing is common amongst the laborers of the small farmers, and "night work," or poaching, is carried on almost with impunity. And these blinded individuals live amongst some of the most interesting parts of the country.

* The wealthy and intelligent farmer of the north, (with his blue coat, and trap buttons, and shining top boots,) mounted on a sleek nag, is seldom or never seen amongst them.

Like the idols of old, "they have eyes, but see not; ears have they, but they hear not; neither do they understand." The rocky moor, and the wooded valley, is alike uninteresting to them: children of nature,-they despise the wonders spread around them, by her parental care. "I can't tell what the gentlefvolks main by coming to zee prospects," said one of them, "I never zeed any." And this was uttered, in the lovely vale which spreads itself between Warde and Huckworthy bridges! On returning from Sheepstor a summer rambler may turn from Walkhampton, and following the course of the rocky mountain stream, come upon the sweet views afforded by the grounds and neighborhood of Wood-town. The closing shades of a winter's day prevented our accomplishing so much; we hastened home from our excursion to the tors by the light of myriads of stars that glittered in the clear cold firmament: but many bright summer afternoons have been passed at Woodtown, and always with increased delight have we reviewed its picturesque retreat. The owner, H. Cornish, Esq., has with much taste aided Nature by throwing open her chief attractions. The river, which was once completely hidden by thick brushwood, is now seen bounding along through its rocky channel; the fantastic trunks of some beautiful old trees are discovered throwing their long branches quite across the foaming stream. A broken field is transformed into a fine sloping lawn; American flowers which grow so well in the bog earth throw their perfume around; while the once impassable thickets are accessible by pleasant pathways leading to the most interesting points of the surrounding scenery. The most beautiful part of the grounds is the wood near Warde bridge. Some aged trees in this spot seem to start from behind immense masses of granite; the most luxuriant ivy hangs in graceful festoons above, while our foot sinks far into the deep rich moss, which alone covers