ABSTRACT
On the south-west coast of the county of Devon, where the genial salubrity of the air, and the verdant luxuriance of the oak-crowned hills and myrtle-shaded valleys, have at length convinced the discontented inhabitants of Britain, that they need not emigrate to the distant shores of Italy in search either of health or picturesque beauty, stood a venerable mansion, / the seat of the ancient family of Eaglefield. It was placed on the gentle slope of a verdant hill, skreened from the north by its summit, covered by a thick grove of aged oaks, while the lawn in front was skirted by younger trees of various kinds, over which the sea was discovered; and at some distance the prospect was rendered more interesting by a view of the floating bulwarks of our national power and independence, riding at anchor in Plymouth Sound. 1
