beauty, now and then resorted thither from the neighbouring towns.
This part of Cornwall shares much of the peculiar and exquisite beauty which every Englishman knows adorns "the sweet shire of Devon." The hedges near Treby, like those found Dawlish and Torquay, are redolent with a thousand flowers; the neighbouring fields are prankt with all the colours of Flora,—its soft air,—the picturesque bay in which it stood, as it were, enshrined,—its red cliffs, and verdure reaching to the very verge of the tide,—all breathe the same festive and genial atmosphere. The cottages give the same promise of comfort, and are adorned by nature with more luxurious loveliness than the villas of the rich in a less happy climate.
Treby was almost unknown; yet, whoever visited it might well prefer its sequestered beauties to many more renowned competitors. Situated in the depths of a little bay, it was sheltered on all sides by the cliffs. Just be-
