The state herald., 1910-10-07

Up this path we made our war sntil
we came to the cliff top. And there
my companion turned to observe In
my face the effect 1t made upon my
mind. Long has he loved II, often has
he scaled Its most dangerous peaks
and descended to Chamber over Its
rocks and explore Its echoing caves.
but always 1t is with fresh delight and
n new intaking OF enthusiasm. The
gulls wheeled over our heads. bank
OF fog came toward us out OF busy
sea. the waves Numbered and roared
and hissed on the piled rocks far be
low us. and there, stretching away In
sombre majesty and lonely beauty.
stood the great shattered cliffs Of Cor.
nish granite, fortress built By Ma
ture for herself. Out OF the mist they
rose In splendid melancholy. not
smooth and polished. not kind and
pastoral. but with look Of human
suffering. an expression OF immemor
ial grief. spirit OF Promethean en-.
durance-rocks. terrible. awful and
pi,iless.
race OF Titans have brought here the
wreckage of all the castles and cathe-
drals ever erected on the earth and
flung them down In giant confusion:
you can see a great flying buttress
projecting from the cliff. mighty
tower broken In half upon the rocks.
pinnicles. arches. pillars and tracery
hA nd agh
walls still standing. but at Wild angles
against the cliff itself. You can zee
the runins OF Shakespeare proud
buildings" and In the rusty linchen sec
the smear OF dust upon their glitter.
ing golden towers. And. II you know
aught OF the history OF this terrible
coast. you can read on the heaped
bouldors and in the jngged spikes of
snarling rocks the tale OF great ships
beaten and smashed TO mntchwood In
ten minutes OF the clock All that Vie.
tor Hugo ever wrote OF the terrors Of
the sea and the ferocity OF rocky coasts
comes crowding and insistcnt into
your mind as you stand ON the lonely
cliff and let the spirit OF the scene
p'Al lhn'll ihib soui hbuiH
Rocks are perhops the grandeat OF
Natures works. Clirs OF white chalk
are pleasant on n summer day and In
the poetry Of our island patriotism
have n sweet and tender place; but
cliffs of ragged granite. marked with
all tho rayages OF time. carved by
the winds and chisseled by tho rains"
as Mr.. Folliott Stokes says OF these
very cliffs. better bring home TO tho
mind the majesty Of Nature Trucr II
would be, perhaps. TO say OF these
torn by the winds and rnyaged by the
rains. for there has been no purpose.
no design In their handling. only the
foroolty of destruction, And here they
stand. terrible. majestic. gorgeous and
awful. facing death with endurance
and regarding wind and sea and rain
with Indifference. lifting their scared
but unbowed heads to tho heavens.
their ruins piled In confusion Mt their
roots; like men enduring the oppug
nance OF Nature. and on the dust OF
the centuries facing eternity withou,
diamny. The spirit Of these ellis Ia
ihn spirit OF IN" SPHINX.
And this Ia what makes the ellis OF
Cornwall 40 delightful walking
ground They hro full OF cntlccmcnta
no, 10 walk You may set out with all
tho intention In the world 10 reach n
certain point. TO do no many miles. 10
keep such and such pace. but the
little eoyca disclosing themselves u,
every Hworye Of tho ollffa will charm
you like syrcnH TO the sands below.
And 40 onward you ramblo. uauntcr,
loltcr. lounge, and even batho. tiil tho
sun ainka 20 his couch and appetite
turns you home. II may bo that you
have gone scarcely milo from your
starting point. but you have descended
and assembled aeoro Of times, every
muscle In the body has had ita work.
and tho soul in satisfied You return
full Of Joy and aplondidly tired