RILLAGE POINT. 265 



through its wooded bottom, of which, however, we 

 can scarcely catch a glimpse here. Another lovely 

 vale, that of Chambercomhe, leads off to the right, and 

 then curves round parallel with the former ; the sides 

 of its hounding hills are covered still more luxuriantly 

 with woods of oak and ash, the dark shadows of which 

 contrast finely with the sunny fields between, cut up 

 by roads and cross-paths like a ground-plan of an 

 estate in a land-agent's ofEce. 



We walk on a little wav to the eastern brow of the 

 hill, which is less precipitous than the other. Hence 

 we look down upon extensive gardens sloping away 

 from our feet to the cottages on the road side. Oppo- 

 site us rises a broad hill-side covered with fields of 

 com and potatoes. Between there is the valley, the 

 village-mill, the "one arch'd bridge" crossing the 

 brook, and the brook itself now in full view brawling 

 and sparkling away to the cove. The sea is breaking 

 on the beach in rolling waves ; and the black rocks 

 of Eillage Point that runs out in a bristling ridge, 

 like a ruined wall, are fringed with a snowy line of 

 foam, from the beating surf, whose hollow roar falls 

 loud upon the ear. Overtopping the whole is the 

 dark outline of Great Hangman, a mountain of regu- 

 lar form nearly 1200 feet in height. 



Once more. In another direction we gaze far 

 down upon the lovely face of the sea, bounded 

 in part by the blue line of the opposite shore run- 

 ning out to a dim, almost invisible, point, but for 

 a considerable expanse of the horizon so mingling 

 with the sky that the separation is with difficulty 

 defined. 



a2 



