A tablet on the wall of the south aisle, to Admiral Thomas Graves, of Thanckes, and his wife, recites the lady’s relationship of first cousin to “Mr. Addison.” It is quite refreshing to find the connection with literature so proudly displayed: I don’t know, though, how much of this recognition is due to the fame of Addison’s matrimonial alliance with the Countess of Warwick. This thought, my literary friends, should give us pause. On the high ground near Antony are two huge modern forts, one commanding the Lynher River, the other, looking over to seaward, defending the western approaches to Plymouth Sound. Screasdon and Tregantle Forts mount between them over 200 guns. We reached the sea again at Downderry, passing to it through a dishevelled village called Crafthole, where we saw our first Cornish cross. Downderry is a small and very modern settlement of seaside lodging-houses, set down amidst wild and lonely scenery beside the treacherous sands of Whitesand Bay, in which many bathers have been engulfed. To come suddenly upon the lath-and-plaster crudities of Downderry in midst of such scenery as this is to experience a cruel shock. Downderry need detain no one. From here it is a long, rough, and lonely walk to Looe, beside the sea; now upon lofty cliffs, and again in deep valleys opening direct from the water, with sandy shores and rocky rivulets running down from the moorlands with laughing ripples and gushing cascades, all solitary and peaceful. We halted in one of these remotenesses. LII. It was a beautiful valley. A little stream came tinkling down it from the impressive moors beyond, and its course was made romantic by many and huge and lichen-stained rocks; and a grey mill stood by it, with a great wheel slowly turning, and covered with aqueous growths, hanging and green, and bulged out dropsically, from whose pendant ends dropped continually crystal-clear beads of water. We unstrapped our knapsacks, and sat down upon the grass, and basked in the sun a while. Then we essayed to cross the stepping-stones with the knapsacks in our hands; but, finding this something of an undertaking, we pitched them gently on the opposite bank. But that bank was sloping, covered with short smooth grass, and treacherous, so that both those knapsacks rolled back, and plunged into the water and sank, sending up a succession of air-bubbles. I am a truthful historian (between _these_ two covers, at any rate), and write nothing but the truth; but I do not conceive myself to be under the painful necessity of setting down the whole of it here, therefore I refrain from printing the remarks with which we greeted this disaster. In the language of the lady-novelist--“suffice it to say” that those remarks were equal to such an occasion.