Perhaps in all the sea-board of the empire, nothing of the same extent
can vie in awful sublimity with this iron-bound coast. Gigantic cliffs
of four and five hundred feet, straight as a wall, are seen perforated
beneath by lofty tunnels, through which the wild waters plunge madly.
Fragments of basalt, large enough to be called islands, are studded
along the shore, the outlines fanciful and strange as beating waves and
winds can make them, while, here and there, in some deep-creviced bay,
the water flows in with long and measured sweep, and, at each moment
retiring, leaves a trace upon the strand, fleeting as the blush upon the
cheek of beauty; and here a little group of fisher children may be seen
at play, while the nets are drying on the beach, the only sight or sound
of human life, save that dark moving speck, alternately seen as the
great waves roll on, be such, and, while tossing to and fro, seems by
some charmed influence fettered to the spot. Yes, it is a
fishing-boat that has ventured out at the half ebb, with the wind off
shore,--hazardous exploit, that only poverty suggests the courage to
encounter!
In front of one of these little natural bays stood “the Corvy;” and
the situation might have been chosen by a painter, for, while combining
every grand feature of the nearer landscape, the Scottish coast and
even Staffa might be seen of a clear evening; while westward, the rich
sunsets were descried in all their golden glory, tipping the rolling
waves with freckled lustre, and throwing a haze of violet-colored light
over the white rocks. And who is to say that, while the great gifts of
the artist are not his who dwells in some rude cot like this, yet
the heart is not sensitively alive to all the influences of such
a scene,--its lonely grandeur, its tranquil beauty, or its fearful
sublimity,--and that the peasant, whose associations from infancy to
age are linked with every barren rock and fissured crag around, has not
created for himself his own store of fancied images, whose power is not
less deeply felt that it has asked for no voice to tell its workings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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