64 LANDSCAPE AND IMAGINATION 



have had untold ages in which to accomplish their 

 appointed work. 



I should like now to transport the reader to a wholly 

 different scene, that we may consider together some 

 of the more obvious features in the landscapes of the 

 south coast of England. At the western end of the 

 Isle of Wight, a long ridge of chalk-down, which 

 stretches completely across the island, runs out to sea, 

 and terminates in the well-known white pinnacles of 

 the Needles. From the highest part of the ridge, when 

 the air is clear, the eye ranges southward over a vast 

 expanse of open sea. To the west and north the 

 breadth of water is bounded by the blue hills of Dorset- 

 shire, the white cliffs of Swanage Bay, and then the 

 long low brown heights which are crowned with the 

 spires of Bournemouth and Christchurch. Eastward 

 we note how the ridge on which we stand sinks down 

 into the hollow of Freshwater Gap, but rises again on 

 the farther side, and then striking inland for some 

 miles, sweeps round to form the heights of St. 

 Catharine's, nearly 800 feet high, whence it descends 

 once more in white cliffs to the sea. 



On a summer noon, when a fresh westerly breeze 

 roughens the sea into deepest azure, and keeps a 

 continual murmur of plashing waves at the foot of the 

 cliffs, few pieces of English coast scenery offer more 

 attractions than this. From the verge of the short 

 green sward of the down, the chalk plunges in a sheer 

 precipice of dazzling whiteness, that contrasts well with 

 the mingled blue and emerald-green of the sea below. 

 Projecting massive buttresses, that catch the full blaze 

 of sunlight, throw into delicate violet shadow the 



