Sunsfjtne at tlje SLanti's. lEntr. 



THE great charm of English scenery consists in its unity in 

 variety. Hills and dales, and softly-curved rivers flowing into 

 a pleasant monotony of prospect, succeed one another, as the 

 traveller passes through the length and breadth of the land, 

 only interrupted here and there by moor or mountain, plain or 

 fen, and everywhere fading off before any large extent of 

 land is overpassed into a margin of grey sea. No wonder that 

 every nook and corner of 



" This isle 

 The greatest and the best of all the main " 



is dear to the lover of nature. Amongst the exceptions to the 

 generally even character of English scenery the Land's End dis- 

 trict is pre-eminent. The absence of trees and hedges, the 

 stern grandeur of its cliffs, the short turf glittering with a blaze 

 of flowers from the blue vernal squill to the purples and yellows 

 of autumn, the troubled waves that are ever chafing round 

 this peninsula, together with the rich remains of antiquity it 

 contains; megaliths, churches, wayside crosses, etc., are features 

 which cannot be elsewhere paralleled in England. It may be 

 briefly described as a patch of grey granite reaching from St. 

 Ives on the northern coast to Penzance on Mount's Bay the 

 toes of a somewhat gouty foot, whose heel is formed by the 

 Lizard. A thin line of slate breaks out here and there on the 

 ruins of this little peninsula, which may be likened by a simile 

 chosen from a native delicacy, to several bites taken at random 

 by a hungry schoolboy from the edge of a huge Cornish pasty. 

 The district swells every here and there to rocky elevations^ 



