which exhibits our notable dame operating with careful attention on the bare head of some rustic sorely troubled with aches and pains in that quarter; and if in the booklearning of Ladye Winifred there were many deficiencies assuredly it was made up by the deep lore of her husband; and if she did show a little pride in being the mistress of so fair a manor, it was counterbalanced by the admirable humility of her worthy spouse. "Remember sweet-heart," would he say, we are but stewards of a great master: it is our part to make a careful ministration of his many gifts, and to him be all honor due."

On the morning of the coming feast, Winifred arose at cock-crowing, and with her tire woman Cicely, proceeded to inspect the arrangements for the day. She slowly decended the grand stair-case leading to the entrance hall, and viewed again and again the massive board, groaning beneath the weight of shining plate. She proceeded to the kitchen, well garnished with trenchers, where red-faced cook-maids laboured to prepare savoury viands for their lady's table: and some positivily affirm that the Lady Winifred did not disdain to plunge her own dainty fingers in the whitened meal, for the sake of fashioning with curious art, sundry pasties and comfitures, pleasant to the eye as sweet to the taste of those who were destined to regale thereon. Lastly, after worthily bedecking herself in sacque and tucker, she proceeded to the with-drawing room, prepared to pay all due honour to her numerous guests. Surely pride swelled the heart of Dame Winifred and lurked in her bright eye, as she saluted, with swimming grace, the various groups who crowded to do honour to their hostess. Then began the pastimes of the day. There were cockfighting and bull-baiting for the gentlemen, and archery or scandal for the ladies, and about noon, a banquet in the hall was announced, which was welcomed right willingly both by dame and squire. Now to this same

feast had been invited Sir Francis Glanville, elder brother of the worthy Sir John (the same who, by his ill conduct, lost the favour of his father and the fair estate of his family; for that just parent seeing that his eldest son was prodigal and foolish, committed the care of his property to his second child, who carefully preserved the same until his brother, Sir Francis, had repented of his mis-deeds, which was about the time of which I write.) Then when all the guests had place according to their respective ranks, from the highest to the lowest, the Lady Winifred was impatient to remove the covers, and display to their wondering eyes the good cheer and hospitality of her lord; but Sir John gently restrained her anxiety, and addressing his brother, desired him to uncover the dish before him, which he doing, the company were surprised to find it full of writings: whereupon Sir John told them, that he was now to do what he was sure his father would have done, if he had lived to see that happy change which they now all saw in his brother; and therefore he here freely restored to him the whole of the estate. Saying thus he left his seat, amidst the pleasure and admiration of his brother and friends, and the ill-concealed grief of the Lady Winifred who had stood like a statue during the whole of her husband's harangue, with eyes and mouth distended wide swallowing with horror the words, as each one gave a fatal blow to all her dignity and pride. Poor dame Winny! it was thought she would never recover the shock, but vanity made her swallow the bitter pill, and she footed it with the new heir as featly through a merry dance as any lady of her rank in the hall; and, as for Sir John, we could say with truth not a heart was lighter, or a step more gay than his that night; and the praise of his generous deed has been heard through all the country round, from that time forth even unto the present day.

A more tragical relation belongs to the family of

Glanville, upon which Mrs. Bray's novel of Fitzford is partly founded. It is said that the daughter of Judge Glanville was so lost to a sense of love and morality, that in an hour of temptation, she murdered her husband. As the story goes, it appears that she was tried for this heinous crime by her own father, who like Brutus of old, sternly condemned his guilty child to death. At the time this sad tragedy was enacted, Kilworthy was not built. It was erected some time after by the son of this rigid but upright judge. The monument of the Glanvilles, as I have before mentioned is still to be seen in the parish church at Tavistock. Very excellent accommodations are now afforded at Kilworthy for those who desire a short sojourn in this pleasant vicinity, and we cannot do better than recommend the lover of the picturesque to make his domicile under the hospitable roof which is so fortunately opened to him. The neighbourhood of Kilworthy affords rich treasures for the Botanist. The mosses and ferns, on the old walls and hedges, are especially valuable; I have seen them in no place growing in greater profusion, or in more luxuriant beauty; In one lane called by right distinction Snow-drop lane, these "fair creatures" every spring throw a snowy carpet, which all who enter must perforce tread, so thickly are the flowers strewn.-Close by, an orchard is glowing with the gaudy yellow of daffodils or lent lillies, and every bank is gemmed with starry primroses, and the deep blue but scentless violet. Further pursuing his researches the floral rambler may traverse the farm-yard, made musical by "the melodie of the fowlis" as Lady Julia Barnes has it, and stopping to admire a few noble but ancient and grotesque firs, which throw their shade on a delicious well and its adjoining pond, follow the lane which turns by some fine French walnut trees, and take the old and time worn, but seldom trodden road to Heathfield. How the Glanvilles in their cumbrous

upon

vehicles could get along this rocky way, it is difficult to imagine, but one would suppose they contrived to accomplish this feat, as the road terminates in a handsome gateway, ornamented by massive stone pillars.

Another obstacle in the way of carriage passengers is a clear and sparkling brook, beneath whose shelving sides, the trout leap in playful sportiveness. A number of fine old trees overshadow the stream, and appear to greater advantage from the barren aspect of the neighbouring moor; the bright green verdure of the brook is also contrasted with the rich brown hues of the glowing heath. What pleasure to ramble at will, gathering handfuls of the graceful heather, amongst whose fairy bells the bee rustles her busy wing, winding her small horn as she “sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweets." What delight to discover a precious bunch of the beautiful coral lichen, which grows in abundance on this heath! Here have I watched the cunning hare, dart from her hiding place, amidst the thick furze, and speed like the wind before the fierce and hot chase of her pursuers. What an animated scene is a hunt on such a spot as this on a fine frosty morning in December, when every twig bends beneath its weight of sparkling diamonds, and the clear cold air braces the nerves, preparing them for the most lengthened exertion. Then the dogs fly past with their stirring cry, while the cheerful horn sounds over hill and dale, and the hunters in their gay attire follow "hard" after their scudding prey.

Far is it from my wish to advocate the cruelty, which would worry a poor animal to the death; yet I cannot help feeling a glow of animation, which carries away my better judgment in witnessing a hunt on such a morning as the one described. Here too we have often watched The Gipsey's faggot-as we stood and gazed;" We have done so, I say for alas! for the vagrant tribes of the earth we can do so no longer. The march of improvement has extended even to this secluded spot.

K

The wand of industry has passed over the scene, and gipsies, huntsmen, and heath-flowers are beheld no longer. "A change comes o'er the spirit of the dream;❞—but in describing early recollections I had almost forgotten it. Now I remember my regret at visiting this same spot a short time since, and finding our favourite resort so altered. A rough but newly made road covered with sharp stones had replaced the rocky way which once led to the heath; the shelving banks of the stream were levelled to make way for the same track; most of the trees were gone for the same purpose, and a bran new gate, replaced the dingy red one, which had swung on its rusty hinges for so many years before. I could scarcely recognize the spot again, but some familiar initials on one of the remaining trees assured me I was not mistaken; besides in the hedge near was a land-mark, which could not have been removed. On a large moor stone were deeply engraven the letters F 1652 G and F M 1720.* This relic of the former possessors of the land was still left. But the heath, and the flowers, and the furze-bush for the cunning hare were all gone. Enclosures on every side protected fields of springing corn, and pasture land from the rough colts and rougher cattle that once wandered at will over the rugged heath. Young plantations arose in the distance and cottages were appearing in various directions.

Clustered like stars some few, but single most,

And lurking dimly in their shy retreats,
Or glancing on each other cheerful looks,
Like separated stars with clouds between."

WORDSWORTH.

Plenty seemed gradually rewarding the continued labours of the philanthropist and husbandman;—but alas! for the warped fancy of human nature; it will turn to its own hearth fire and to the sunny beams of early recollection. I must confess my selfishness and say that I

*Francis Glanville and Francis Manaton.