THE GEOLOGIST. 
AUGUST 1863. 
THOUGHTS ON DOVER CLIFFS. 
By the Editoe. 
On tlie shore of the English Channel, half hidden by its shady 
grove of trees, stands Walmer Castle, the sweet red roses trailing up 
the ramparts and clustering in lovely bouquets round its cannon, em- 
blematic of the peaceful end of him — illustrious Wellington — whose 
last breath ceased within those grey stone walls. 
From this lonely beach, against whose front the " wild waves 
ceaseless play," creating their own barrier in the great banks of 
shingle which ceaselessly they raise, we look out upon the fleet of 
1. Shakespeare's Cliflf, Dover. 
vessels in the Downs, and far beyond the long white line of surf — 
the shroud of many a noble heart — that marks the Goodwin Sands, 
is seen the distant coast of France. 
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