effect our visit to Trematon Castle, and were ferried over Lynher Creek, which washes the foot of this noble ruin. We found these remains of baronial splendour as august upon a near approach as they were striking at a distance. They consist of a circular ivied embattled wall, including a base court of an acre of ground, and surrounded by a deep ditch. The entrance into this space is under a massive square tower, formerly secured by three portcullises. But the most majestic feature of the ruins is the dilapidated keep which rises from a vast artificial mound at the north-west corner of the area, an edifice that must anciently have awed that great extent of country which it now overlooks. Built originally to be impregnable, its wall was ten feet thick, and allowed entrance only by a strong arched door-way which fronts the west. The careful jealousy of its construction, appears from its having had no openings, even for windows; for the light of heaven was admitted only at the top; at least no windows appear in an elevation of thirty feet. Its figure is oval, extending in length upwards of seventy feet, and in breadth about fifty. The exact æra of its erection is unknown; but it appears to have been one of the residences of the ancient Cornish kings, and makes at present a part of the Dutchy of Cornwall.

The road from hence to MoUNT EDGECOMBE is enlivened by the perpetual recurrence of beautiful views and agreeable objects; for though we were now entered upon Cornwall, the rich scenery of Devonshire had not yet deserted us, and numerous villages on every side evinced that we were still in the region of trade, commerce, and population. But the recollection of all these inferior charms was lost when we approached the mansion of Lord Mount Edgecombe. This place has been celebrated indeed for its magnificence and beauty, ever since the period of its becoming the residence of a private family, which was in the middle of the sixteenth century, when Sir Richard Edgecombe, knight, chose it for the scite of his country mansion. Its natural charms, and the growth of its artificial plantations, excited the admiration of the Duke de Medina Sidonia, who proudly passed it in his Invincible Armada in the year 1588, and who would probably have executed his determination of making it his English residence, had not a few trifling accidents destroyed both his fleet and his anticipations together. One cannot indeed wonder at the Spaniard's partiality to the place, as there are few spots so calcu lated to strike the imagination, from the magnificence of its situation, and the beauty of its grounds. Of the house as it stood shortly after the period

just mentioned, we have the following account left to us by Carew, which affords a tolerably accurate idea of its present state, as the wing that has been added in modern times is so skreened as not to interfere with the coup d'ail of the original building. "The house is builded square, with a round turret "at each end, garretted at the top, and the hall "rising in the midst above the rest, which yields a "stately sound as you enter the same. In summer "the opened casements admit a refreshing coldness. "In winter the two closed doors exclude all offensive ❝coldness. The parlour and dining-room give you "a large and diversified prospect of the land and sea. "It is supplied by a never-failing spring of water.

Both sides of the narrow entrance are fenced with "block houses; and that next to Mount Edgecombe "was wont to be planted with ordnance, which, at "coming and parting, with their bass voices greeted "such guests as visited the house."

The most advantageous tour of the extensive grounds of this superb place, in which its interesting parts are taken in best succession, is pointed out in a little Guide, published at Plymouth-Dock, written with neatness and elegance. It divides the excursion very properly into two routes, embracing by this arrangement the whole routine of its multifarious scenes and diversified objects. Assisted by

this little manual, the traveller, after passing the Park-gate, takes the upper road, leading him through a piece of fine broken woodland scenery to the White Seat, as it is called, an eminence which commands a view combining all the objects that can be introduced into the most varied scene. A little further on a picture of a different character is presented, from Redding Point, in which the boundless. ocean forms the prominent feature, with Cawsand Bay on the right, usually spotted with ships of war stationed in this ample sheet of water. The route will then lead him along the flat summit of the hill to the boundary on the western side, disclosing in its course occasional peeps at rivers, creeks, villages, and towns, till gradually declining into a beautiful valley, it agreeably contrasts the varied views commanded from the heights by the fewer, but more distinctly marked objects of a closer scene. The Great Terrace now receives the traveller, wrapping him in gloom, with the fine accompaniment of the ocean roaring at a great depth beneath him on his right hand; but his associations are quickly changed by a beautiful little valley, upon which he suddenly enters, called Picklecombe. Nothing can be conceived more singular and romantic than this natural hollow, which, from the uniformity of its appearance, seems as if it were intended to pass upon the

eye for an artificial excavation. A modern ruin, well executed, representing a dilapidated chapel, stands at the upper end, which takes in the whole of the valley, and carries the gaze through its opposite extremity to the sea, bounded only by the horizon. A shrubbery of unequalled beauty next occurs, formed entirely of every species of evergreen that will endure the vicissitudes of an English winter.

"Not that fair field

"Of Enna, where Proserpin gath'ring flowers,
"Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis

"Was gather'd, which cost Ceres all that pain
"To seek her thro' the world; nor that sweet grove
"Of Daphne by Orontes, and the inspir'd

"Castalian spring, might strive with this."

To its other charms it adds the prominent one of perpetual verdure, for as no deciduous plant has been admitted into it, and as it is protected from every blast that might injure or destroy its foliage, it literally smiles with an eternal spring. The closeness of this grove scenery gives additional effect to the view that bursts upon the eye at the stone seat, called the Arch, where it is thrown down a precipice washed by Plymouth Sound, that stretches into the ocean to the right. The zig-zag walks now conduct the traveller, by a new and interesting course, to Picklecombe and the Great Terrace; and being for