A PLEASANT WALK. 265 



summit of St. Bee's Head, standing 800 or 1000 feet 

 above the sea. And here I parted from my friend, 

 intending to return by the sea-beach, whereto, after 

 some difficulty, I managed to effect a safe descent. 



And here let me warn my readers, that, to look 

 down upon a beach from the top of a high cliff, and to 

 attempt to walk over it, are two very different things. 

 In the present instance, most devoutly did I wish 

 myself safely back again in upper air, and would at 

 the moment have given a trifle for the loan of a pair 

 of wings to any of the innumerable birds that screamed 

 above my head. Shade of Cheops ! Fancy a thousand 

 pyramids as big as thine blown up, their giant masonry 

 scattered in wild confusion over the ground, mass 

 piled on mass, stones heaped on stones, and all worn 

 smooth, and polished by mighty waves, that, in their 

 fury, heave them up, and roll them here and there 

 like pebbles huge blocks as big as houses strewn 

 about in all directions, thatched with sea-wrack, 

 and slippery with ooze and slime ! Sadak, when in 

 search of- the waters of oblivion, had an easy journey 

 before him when compared with mine. How many 

 hours I toiled and climbed, and crawled and waded, 

 I know not. Suffice it, that at last I did emerge 

 from that dread labyrinth of Cyclopian anarchy, 

 dirty and torn and bruised, and wet and weary and 

 forlorn. 



In this sad plight, while sitting on a rock, doubtless 

 as miserable-looking an object as the knight of the 

 rueful countenance, I saw a human form advancing 

 towards my resting-place, and on his nearer approach 

 I could not but be struck at the romantic figure 



