which is the south-east extreme of Bigbury Bay. This bay is fourteen miles through: it is fringed throughout with single rocks and ledges, and is very dangerous with west and south-west winds; many vessels are lost here in the winter. The Erme and Avon, small rivers, run into this bay, and are navigable at high-water for fishing-boats; the principal fishing is the pilchard and mackerel, with drift nets; but it is very uncertain, through the roughness of the water in the prevailing westerly winds. The wind freshened to a strong breeze after passing the Bolt Tail; but, as we could sail the course for Plymouth, we took in our topsail only, and carried the whole mainsail, sailing at a great rate, heeling over and shipping crests of waves. It is a joyous thing, the bounding along fast through the blue sea all alive with white-topped waves, the vessel sceming a living creature, jumping, rushing, and splitting through the determined ripple and swell of old ocean, and to find yourself running past the land, or through a bay, at an untiring speed of ten knots an hour. In two hours we were close to the Plymouth Mewstone, a very fine high rock covered with sharp broken ridges, against the foot of which the seas break with great fury and with fine effect. From this rock to Rame Head is found the fine bay of the Sound, and the grand entrance to Plymouth; as we ran on we sighted the Breakwater, and stood in for the Lighthouse on its western end: the sun, shining on the white paint and lantern, brought it out as if quite new, and made it a pretty object on the stiff, dull-looking breakwater. Cawsand Bay, a great fishing place, is on the west of the breakwater, the high land of Maker, and the beautiful ground and woods of Mount Edgcumbe. We sailed on smoothly after passing the breakwater, which so well breaks the sea from the Sound and gives shelter to the shipping there. We passed three men-of-war, grim-looking monster iron-clads, and steered in between the picturesque batteries of Drake's Island on the west and elevated citadel on the east, and ran into the quiet water of Barn Pool, made fast to a man-of-war's buoy, close to the lovely woods of Mount Edgcumbe. We now bid farewell to the yacht, as after a day's rest we intended to explore the beauties of Mount Edgcumbe, and then make an excursion up the Tamar. "Away, away from men and towns, To the wild wood and the Downs, To the silent wilderness." (To be continued.) SHELLEY. "Now, when the cheerless empire of the sky THOMSON. The year 1866 is now rapidly approaching its completion, not however without marking its course with events to be recorded; amongst which may be included the short but decisive war between Prussia and Austria, the critical position of the Popedom, the threatened rising of the Fenians in Ireland, the brilliant Meteoric shower of such recent occurrence, the destruction of life and property by floods in the North of England, and the very late harvest in many parts of both England and Scotland. In Strathclyde, and especially in its upper districts, where land is at a considerable elevation, the harvest is usually late, and this backwardness was increased during the past season by the frequent heavy rains, which, coupled with many damp close days and absence of wind, prevented the stooks from drying, and in consequence they were standing out in many instances in the month of November, verifying in one sense of the word the truth of the old adage, ""Tis an ill wind that blows nobody good," if we may be allowed to personify birds, which continued to reap their daily abundant meal at the farmers' expense. We are not here alluding to the smaller birds, but to the vast numbers of grouse and black game which literally swarm in the locality which we are describing, and where they are more abundant this season than they have been for the last twenty years. A field of barley nearly opposite our domicile, and flanked on two sides by the Edinburgh and Glasgow roads respectively, was one out of hundreds exhibiting a state of things which would scarcely be credited by those unacquainted with the autumnal doings of the tetrao when he seeks a cereal diet in lieu of the withered heather. It was a common thing to see a pack of from fifty to a hundred grouse and upwards suddenly alight in a stubble field or on the top of a dike, and having made a brief survey of the neighbouring stooks, immediately settle upon them in companies varying from two or three to six or eight to a single stook, and commence a hayoc which continued till some casual disturbance might cause a short intermission, or perhaps induce them to exchange their invaded position for another part of the field. Farmers found it necessary to keep boys employed in herding them; but they soon grew as familiar with the person and whistling and noisy vociferations of the juvenile watchers, as birds in general do with ordinary scarecrows. In addition to the vast numbers of grouse inhabiting this locality, there was a degree of tameness, or rather of impudence and effrontery about them, which, after a long acquaintance with this species of game both in the Highlands and Lowlands, we never saw equalled. All the moors for a considerable extent around being carefully protected, they have acquired a feeling of security, which they exhibit especially when feeding on the corn. While the stooks remained out they continued to have their heads blackened with these birds, the stone dikes being also lined with various detachments, and the cleared stubbles being afterwards visited daily for any remaining ears, which as small donations were thankfully received by these winged gleaners. Certainly the district generally presented a most enticing picture to the poaching fraternity, by whom it is surprising that these birds were left unmolested. In this district grouse are not considered to lie so well on the moors as in Perthshire and other highland localities, where the more luxuriant heather affords a better cover; at the same time we cannot refrain from entering our protest against a system here carried on, and which threatens to extend itself to other parts of Scotland, to the destruction of all true sport, if not to the extermination of the genus tetrao. We allude to the foreign battue system of driving, which as a sporting proceeding bears no more comparison to the legitimate pursuit as conducted over dogs, than marbles to billiards, or bobbing for cels to fly-fishing for salmon. It certainly has the effect of bringing an enormous number to bag, and hence enabling the proprietor to record a marvellous day upon his moor; but in what the sport consists of slaughtering birds by sixteen or eighteen guns to which they are driven by beaters, the reports being so continuous and of such rapid succession as to resemble, when at a distance, and that for hours together, the beating of carpets previous to the season at a watering place, we confess ourselves to be at a loss to conceive. November 20th was an honour to the month, and well calculated to falsify its general character for fog, gloom, and depressing darkness; its characteristics being a hard exhilarating frost, accompanied by bright sunshine, and an absence of wind, and well-suited for tramping moors or boggy ground; not at this time, however, so productive of grouse as the stooks and stubbles to which we have just alluded. There is on the summit of a hill immediately opposite Abington, and on the other side of the Clyde, an object well worthy the inspection of those taking an interest in antiquarian remains, and which we determined to visit on this occasion. We allude to an ancient British camp of considerable extent, and in a very good state of preservation. This camp has long been an object of attraction to strangers coming from a distance, while the greater number in all probability make the excursion more for the sake of fresh air, and the enjoyment of a sub Jove refreshment with their friends, after their confinement in Glas gow and other towns, than for the inspection of the remains them selves. We started in the afternoon, accompanied by a friend, and after crossing the Clyde, and also the railway-bridge, struck immediately on to the moor, which, barring either very dry weather or hard frost, as on the present occasion, would be swampy enough for the keenest snipeshooter that ever bagged a long-bill, while at the same time we may observe that those birds do not now abound in this locality; and even at Elvanfoot, where they were once very numerous, they have become extremely scarce. The hill, which is of a conical shape, although of no great height, rising about 500 feet, is rather steep for a direct ascent; but by winding gradually round the southern shoulder, a tolerable walker can reach the summit, without much tax upon his respiratory organs, in the course of about half-an-hour after leaving the village. Having ascended a short way, we heard a loud shouting in the distance, and also observed a shepherd, attended by his colley, advancing in our direction with great rapidity, and we directed our friend's notice to the pace at which he was proceeding without in the least supposing that he was endeavouring to overtake us, or that he was uttering the vociferations already mentioned. As we halted for a short time to take a view of the surrounding country, the shepherd presently came up with us, and very civilly touched his bonnet, observing that it was a fine day, while his dog set-up his bristles, and barked after anything but a fond manner; but being only a puppy, noise formed the chief part of the salutation. The shepherd being somewhat out of breath with his recent rapid pace, was glad to seat himself for a short time to gain a fresh supply, in the meantime informing us that he came with the intention of warning us off the ground, having received orders from his master to that effect, whenever he might see persons ascending to the camp. This we naturally concluded was in order to prevent disturbance of the grouse, so abundant on this moor, which forms part of the Douglas property. This, we learned from the shepherd, was not the case; but that it was for the protection of his master's sheep, many of which he had found dead without knowing for some time from what cause; when at last it was discovered that they owed their destruction to persons visiting the camp, who amused themselves with rolling the stones down the hill-side, and to which practice he assured us that on one occasion he nearly fell a victim himself, as a large stone came down within a short distance from him. From this we may remark that even the wild moorland hill, surmounted by its interesting remains of a British camp, affords one of the hundreds of instances to prove that the British public, we are sorry to say, cannot be trusted like our foreign neighbours with a privilege without a great danger of its being abused. To enter into details of this great national fault would be at once tedious and unnecessary, extending, as it does, from museums of art to individual objects of interest, to palaces and mansions, but more especially to pleasure-grounds, if they be thrown open pro bono publico. We may here briefly allude to a very marked instance of this abuse in connection with the beautiful grounds at Dunkeld, belonging to the late Duke of Athole, who kindly threw them open to a procession from Dundee, who, not content with the favour, as they marched, accompanied by their band, felt compelled to record their visit by destroying the trees and other ornaments to the property, which conduct very naturally and very deservedly had the effect of excluding them from the grounds on after-occasions. This mode of proceeding, so common, we are sorry to say, on the part of a large proportion of our countrymen, contrasts strongly with the decent and orderly conduct of foreigners, who are seldom known to injure or destroy property which they are kindly permitted to inspect; while it is too well known how fond many in our own country, exulting perhaps in the euphonious names of Jones, Giles, or Scroggins, are of recording their once personal presence by carving them on park-seats or scratching them on inn windows. One of the most absurd and unmeaning acts of this kind that ever came under our own observation was that connected with a huge block of coal, which had been put into a cart for a wager by a Highlander, who at the time was an inn-keeper at Meigle, in the county of Forfarshire. We have in a former number of the Sporting Review given an account of all the circumstances connected with this mass of coal, which, at the time of our visit to Meigle, was lying in the stable-yard, considerably reduced, as we were informed by the widow of the performer of this Herculean feat, by constant chippings and breakings, which lessened a mass of coal, by no means remarkable in a mineral capacity, but merely from its great weight, attesting the vast physical power of a man who, in performing the feat, laid, by an overstrain, the seeds of death, which occurred not long afterwards. After this digression, we may remark that on the occasion of our walk to the camp the order against the visits of strangers was relaxed in our favour by the shepherd, who amused us, when he said: “I thought at first you might be some of the saucy ones that refuse to be put back; but by all means see the camp, and I'll take you the best road to it, as I like to show it to decent Christians." Well, he conducted us to it by a somewhat circuitous, but by far the easiest path, and certainly a most striking and magnificent record does this camp afford of the great labour bestowed by the ancient Britons in the construction of their fortifications, as well as their judgment in the selection of a most commanding position. This camp consists of three large concentric circles, to compose which the enormous number of stones which still attest the arduous task are far beyond any computation. At about a quarter of a-mile from this camp is an old Roman road, still very distinct, and although its course after a time becomes lost for certain distances, it can be traced as far as the English border. At a short distance from this hill, near the farm-house of Coldchapel, are two camps on the opposite sides of the Hawkwood burn. One being rectangular in form, and situated on level ground, has its ramparts in an excellent state of preservation, and measures diagonally 165 by 150 feet. The other camp, which is of a very irregular form and less distinct, stands on the first rise of the hill, and measures 254 by 220 feet. In the vicinity of these camps a number of urns containing bones were dug up; and also a javelin head, small, thin, and of rude formation, measuring 24 inches in length and three-quarters broad. From Coldchapel the Roman road descends the right bank of |