I resided, by the sea, there is a path for some considerable distance upon the edge of the cliffs, which in many places rises to a considerable height, and then as gently descends. Here one can walk, as I have often done, and feast one's vision off every variety of scenery. The rolling waves below, rendered violent by the obstructions of scattered rocks. The little rivulets, in many places winding their courses to the edge of the cliffs, over which they fall with gentle murmurings. The native fishermen busily attending to their crab pots and fishing nets; and, inland, the fruitful fields, the foliaged groves, and the towering downs! Surely no one can view these things without being penetrated with the goodness and power of the ever-blessed Creator.

Here it is that the plant called samphire, used for pickling, grows, the collecting of which gives employment to many individuals. It grows upon the front of these cliffs, and is reached oftentimes with the greatest danger. Just fancy climbing or descending a cliff of several hundreds of feet in height, and that with insecure footing!

Shakspeare describes samphire picking thus :

"How fearful

And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eye so low!

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half-way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire: dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head!"

Well may he characterize it thus. Really when any one purchases a large quantity of it for a few pence, he is struck with the dangers people will forego for such a paltry sum. On the edge of one of these very high cliffs is a natural

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grotto or cave, called "Foxe's Hole," reached by a narrow foot-path. Here, sad to relate, a person of distinction put an end to his existence some time ago. This place was often the resort of bands of smugglers; and many hundreds of tubs of spirits have been discovered here.

Passing on and leaving Steephill, deservingly called the Queen of the Undercliff,'

"Where nature has her charms combined,
With grove, and stream, and valley join'd;
Where glen, and rock, and mountain high,
Are blent in strangest harmony."

we reach the village of St. Lawrence. A delightful spot. Here, sometime since a vineyard was planted at great expense by the proprietor, influenced, no doubt, by the similarity of the climate to that of grape growing countries; but for some reason or other the experiment was not fully tried. Of its diminutive church, and famous well, I shall tell you in another paper. I am now writing of the Island Cliffs, upon one of which, and yet under another, this beautiful village is situated.

But I must hasten on, and leaving much which richly deserves mention, linger about the cliffs of Freshwater and Alum Bay. As to the former they very much resemble the Culver Cliffs, but rise higher, and are much more extensive. From the beach at Freshwater Gate, the land rises to a lofty cliff of nearly three miles extent; upon which a beacon and light-house are erected. The chalky precipices rising themselves in a gradual elevation to a wonderful height, upwards of six hundreds of feet above the level of the sea; sometimes

perpendicular, and sometimes overhanging the ocean in a most awful manner. Among these cliffs innumerable flights of birds build their nests and rear their young. The manner of their being taken by the Islanders for the sake of their eggs, which are nearly as large as the duck's, and their feathers, is thus :

They first of all drive a large stake or iron bar into the ground at the top of the cliff, sufficiently strong to bear any weight which may possibly depend upon it. To this a strong rope, equally secure, is fastened, and to its lower end there is put cross ways a stick upon which the daring adventurer seats himself, and by which he is supported. With this simple apparatus he descends the face of this horrible precipice. Having secured as many eggs, or young, as he can conveniently carry, he ascends by the same means, and recovers the summit from which he began his bold and dauntless enterprise. Surely this requires judgment, steadiness, and courage, for what fearful consequence would attend a miscarriage. I remember when a child visiting these cliffs, and the only way by which I could ever look over them, was by crawling upon all fours," and then I was exceedingly giddy at the sight. O how mean and contemptible are the works of man, when compared with these. And yet the great and adorable God condescends to look upon, and dwell with him who is of a contrite and humble spirit." Isaiah

lvii. 15.

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Think of this dear reader.

"The humble heart's a rival of the skies."

To this great Being, while you refuse to close in with His

offer of mercy through Jesus, you are an enemy. But, accepting His "great salvation," in other words, believing in the Lord Jesus Christ, you become His friend. O then believe,

"Then while this giant cliff, a hopeless trust,
Decays with age and crumbles into dust,
His never-failing promise standeth sure,

And His Almighty word for ever shall endure."

Alum Bay Cliffs are the last I can describe; they, like Jacob's coat, are of many colours.

novelty and interest excited by them.

In this consists the

I well remember a

number of years ago that I was one of a party made up to visit this place. A commodious van, capable of holding about twenty persons was engaged, and, as no one thinks of visiting Alum Bay without bringing home specimens of its variegated sands, we were amply provided with boxes for that purpose. All things went on well till within a mile or so of the Bay; then the sun, which had shone so splendidly, withdrew his gladdening rays, and the whole prospect altered. A drizzling rain set in, which continued until we reached the hotel, about half a mile from the beach. Most of the party, under the circumstances, declined visiting the cliffs. But myself and another did not understand travelling so many miles for nought, so, set off over the rabbit warren, frightening the little creatures from their holes as we ran, and at length reached the shore. But here the difficulty of descending, as the incessant drizzling rain had so moistened the sandy nature of the cliffs, and the thick atmosphere which prevented our beholding any object far from us, soon satisfied our curiosity, and we returned. But in such a

mess-wet and dirty. Suffice it to say that an hour or so by the great kitchen fire, hardly removed the effects of that visit. Such is the thoughtlessness of youth!

But the scene is altered on a beautiful day. Then there are, according to the words of a native rustic poet—

"Some pulling out their paper bags to fill them with the sand, And others farther down the cliff with hammer in their hand, Who sometimes find a fossil crab, or get some curious shell, Or bottle up the coloured sand, as ornaments to sell."

Alum Bay is indeed a remarkable place. Its cliffs are composed of every coloured sand and earth, with tints so bright as to be justly compared to the stripes on a tulip, or to the shades of silk. Alum is also found here, from whence it derives its name. A peculiar sort of sand, used in making the finest sort of glass, and porcelain, is also shipped from these cliffs.

One word more, dear reader, and 'tis this: When these cliffs are convulsed by the presense of the Lord, from whose face they will flee away, where, O where, will your never dying, precious, immortal soul be ?-Read Matt. xvi. 26.

Newport, I. W.

A. MIDLANE.

It is easy, in the world, to live after the world's opinion. It is easy in solitude to live after our own. But the man is he who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of his character.

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