126 
THE GEOLOGIST, 
From tlie Lees the greensand-clifF ranges westward, presenting a 
bold, rugged face, with jutting beds of warm greenish-j^ellow stone, 
glowing in the sun's bright beams, and looking ruddier in their con- 
trast with the dark bushes of intermingled gorse and the tufts of 
thyme and other plants which gTOw from every sandy seam. A 
pretty walk it is on a summer's afternoon along the foot- way. Below 
is the turnpike-road and the great natural sea-wall of fallen rocks, 
resisting still the buffets of the waves. There, too, below us is the 
broad expanse of the British Channel, dotted with white sails of 
freighted ships and fishing-boats, and streaked and clouded with the 
paddle-foam of smoking steamers. Butterflies and moths flutter 
amongst the rank herbage, and grasshoppers chirrup along the bank 
that bars us from the level and fertile fields. 
As we approach Sandgate, the pretty little village with its long 
street of straggling houses and its round castle set in its ring of semi- 
circular lunettes bursts suddenly on the sight. A channing view 
Lign. IG.— Sandjrate, from the end of the Folkestone Cliffs. The forefn'ounil consisting of the 
upper, the mid-distance behind the village of the middle division, beyond, in the distance, 
the Kentish rag-beds of Hythe. 
indeed it is from this abrupt termination of the Folkestone cliffs. A 
steep path, skirting a Martello-tower — for these round forts extend 
for mOes along the coast — winds down to the village beneath, at the 
