Morning journal and courier., 1891-08-22

comprise the season. On the contrary, the genuine season is during the remain ing nine months. The rich live here dur ing that time in their own homes. They are usually inyalids, or families some members of which require the soft and alth-giving air that is said to prevail during the winter months. When the summer comes the real residents leave for the continental spas or for the Highland lochs and glens of Scotland. Then a pop ulation of at least twenty thousand is en- tirely changed Liverpool or Manchester shopkeepers or brokers, county curates on pinched allowances, and managing clerks with hollow eyes and chests "leti the houses deserted by the quality, and gain enough life and vigor for the rest of the years struggle. These with the "trip pers" and excursionists make up the pop ulation and crowds in summer The shopkeepers rather scornfuIly serve them. But these fine shadings of distinction are willingly recognized and borne by summer tenants, and are never seen by those to whom one day in the year at Southport is the sole aspiration of twelvemonths' brave saving.
 Scenically Southport is winsome rather than striking. It would be ranked beau tifnl in itself were there no added charm of sea or shore. Its long, cool streets reaching back countryward are beautiful Crossing these and running parallel with the shore, but shut away from it by a sin gle great range of sea-view baths, pavil- ions and hotels, is one of the finest ave nues in Europe. It recalls Princess street, Edinburgh, the Paris boulevards and the Prado of Havana. This is the great ave nue of shops and bazaars, of equestrian display, a sort of Rotten Row for bril- liant equipages, and the grand promenade for beautiful and beautifully dressed wo- men. With all its splendor it has a hushed and quiet air. Indeed this dreamful pen siyeness is characteristic of the entire place. It is not languor. It is the sea airs tender bidding to rest. Something like it comes with the soft breezes in Florida, in the Bahamas, and with those witching, narcotic breaths that pulse and tbrob in Cuba and the Azores
 Exclusive of its seashore delights the place is provided with so great & number of genuine attractions that the desrth of these in our own watering places becomes a humilistiDg reflection. On land re- claimed from sand there has been made one of the most exquisite parks in Eng land. Its Winter Gardens, open all the year round, and affording various forms of entertainment and recreation, cost over half million dollars. A conservatory and aquarium, among the finest in Bri- tain, are also here. Its Kew Gardens are only second 10 Royal Kew in London. Its free public library and art gallery would honor any city. The Victoria Baths cost nearly quarter million dollars. And its Botanic Gardens and museum are alone worth 8 days visit. It would almost seem that in this extraordinary provision for recreation and educstive diversion lies a suggestion of value to our own mana gers of great resorts. There are variety and diversity in it. It minimizes the loaf ing tendency in huge crowds which be- gets rowdyism. It pays because it at tracts the same people again and again.
 The city faces the sea to the west. For three or four miles along its front runs the Marine Esplanade. The great hotels, the most imposing private residences, the grand baths and pavilions, extend 10 the north and south along this, forming an all most unbroken facade of great beauty and interest. In front of all this the sands and the sea: the sands ample play ground for millions, not thousands, of visitors; the sea dream of majestic sweetness and repose. From central street a pier has been built across the sands, which are covered by spring tides and often left like polished gold by other high tides, to the sen channel. This is nearly mile in length and one of the longest in England. It provides wide promenade all this distance; and cable passenger railway runs nearly to its sea- end. Here the pier is broadened to per haps an acre in area, and there are re- freshment rooms, music pavilions and room for dancing. Seats are every where, and the pier can comfortably accommo- date fifty thousand loungers and pedestri ans; while from the sea-channel beneath it excursions are made to as far north as Barrow, ss far west as the Isle of Mar, and as far south as Llandudno, in Wales
 To the rights and left of the great pier is always to be seen the real holiday activ- ity of Southport. The sands, or fore shore as they are called here, are fully three-fourths of mile broad. One could follow them, along this or greater breadth, for twenty miles to the south, and to the north all along the Lancashire coast and around Morecambe Bay on the north, a distance of more than one hundred miles I have never elsewhere seen no noble a reach of beach, It is pure sand, with no ''shingle" and scarcely pebble within it. To the left is A marine park within the sands, a salt water lake within this, and all the grotesque shows inseparable from a great popular resort grouped beyond in & manner permitting the closest police sur veillance. To the right there is little but the sand and the sea. It is the playground of big and little children, and gloriously the thousands enjoy it. A stranded brig, sitting bolt upright in the sand, adds zest to the picture. A fleet of sand -boats-cu- rious, wide-tired wagons propelled by sails course over this level plain. At the shore edge beyond are rows of ragged bathing-vans, like an emigrant train gone into encampment. Donkeys. Salvationists and vagrom musicians are everywhere; but not single beggar is allowed in all the parish precincts.
 For myself I love best to come to South port when the great interior hives of in dustry belch forth their thousands for a day's outing here; or the Lancashire and Cheshire miners come down stronger in numbers than any one of our single ar mics during the late civil war. That may seem like exaggeration. Only few days ago I was one of just such a crowd here at Southport. Not only did seventy thou- sand miners leave the black coal pits voice less behind them, but many of their fam flies came. The great wheels at the pit mouths were still, and all the ''pit-brow lassies," with some of my own good friends among them, came along. More than one hundred thousand of these sturdy folk were here-neaIly as many souls as are housed in Rochester or Louisville-and all in one day. It is at such times that one may know, if he will use his eyes, how precious thing is the glint of the waves, the cool touch of the golden sands, the whispered lullaby and mysteries of the sea, and all the benefcence of Gods blessed sunlight kissing through life giv- ing airs the pallor from out these toil- scared facess, to unused, eager eyes and | haunted, hungry hearts.
 EDGAR l.. WAKEMAN