It is very rare too, that there is a scarcity of shipping to adorn the scene; the trade from Newcastle, Sunderland and the Baltic, keeping up a constant succession. The different parties of pleasure, also, that assemble upon the beach in an evening, for walking, riding or reading, constitute variety and make it a very pleasant resort. But towards the close of a fine summer’s evening, when the sun declining in full splendour, tinting the whole scene with a golding glow, the sea shore becomes an object truly sublime. The noble expanse of blue waters on the one hand, the distant sail catching the last rays of the setting sun, controlled on the other by the rugged surfaces of the impending cliffs, the stillness of the scene, interrupted only by the gentle murmurs of the waves falling at your feet or perhaps by the solemn dashing of oars, or at intervals, by the hoarse bawling of the seamen;—“music in such full unison” with the surrounding objects and altogether calculated to inspire so pleasing a train of thoughts to the contemplative, solitary stroller, that he does not awake from his reverie till “black and deep the night begins to fall. A shade immense, sunk in the quenching gloom; Magnificent and vast, are Heaven and earth. Order confounded lies; all beauty void; Distinction lost; and gay variety One universal blot; such the fair power Of Light, to kindle and create the whole.” What can give a more adequate idea of the power of the divine Creator than such a scene? What can give a fuller comprehension of the compass of human invention than the intercourse which is maintained between nations through the medium of navigation? And to an Englishman can there be a more pleasing or exulting theme, than the wide extent of the commerce of Great Britain and the glory of the British Navy?—the bulwark of this happy land. “This royal throne of Kings, this scepter’d Isle, This earth of Majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demy Paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself, Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands.” To the artist, also, the sea furnishes an almost never-ending source of amusement; it is a constant moving picture capable of a thousand modifications, and of being treated on canvass in various ways; it admits too of the grandest effects of light and shadow, and in the hands of such a master as Vanderveldt of producing wonderful effect. But it is in the storm alone that the grand effects I am speaking of are to be found. “When huge uproar lords it wide”