“In the evening we strolled down to look at the place, and were beguiled into staying till it was quite late by the interest which attached to the coming‐in of the tide. There was a breeze from the southward, which hove the sea against the opposite entrance of the cavern to that on which we were standing; and the funnel‐shaped cliffs on that side concentrated the successive waves, which drove through a sort of ‘bore,’ and covered with turbulent water large tracts which but a few moments before were dry. We were pushed from stone to stone, and from spot to spot, like a retreating enemy before a successful army; but we lingered, wishing to see the junction of the waters and the insulation of the rock. It is at this point that the advance is so treacherous. There was an isthmus of some twenty feet wide of dry sand, when my wife, who had seen the process before, said, ‘It will be all over by the time you have counted a hundred.’ Before I had reached fifty it was a wide wash of water.” A melancholy fate overtook a large family party near here some years ago. They had walked over the sands to Fern Cliff, and made their picnic in a cavern close by, forgetful of the silent march of the tide. When they discovered their isolation escape was cut off, and the overhanging rock forbade all chance of climbing. They were all drowned, and the bodies picked up one by one, as the sea washed them in. All the species of anemone found on the rocks above the water are to be seen below it, and all displaying their beauties in an incomparably more charming fashion. The whole submerged wall is nothing else than a parterre of most brilliant flowers, taken bodily and set on end. “The eye is bewildered with their number and variety, and knows not which to look at first. Here are the rosy anemones (_Sagartia rosea_), with a firm fleshy column of rich sienna‐brown, paler towards the base, and with the upper part studded with indistinct spots, marking the situation of certain organs which have an adhesive power. The disc is of a pale neutral tint, with a crimson mouth in the centre, and a circumference of crowded tentacles of the most lovely rose‐purple, the rich hue of that lovely flower that bears the name of General Jacqueminot. In those specimens that are most widely opened this tentacular fringe forms a blossom whose petals overhang the concealed column, expanding to the width of an inch or more; but there are others in which the expansion is less complete in different degrees, and these all give distinct phases of loveliness. We find a few among the rest which, with the characteristically‐coloured tentacles, have the column and disc of a creamy white; and one in which the disc is of a brilliant orange, inclining to scarlet. Most lovely little creatures are they all! Commingling with these charming roses there are others which attain a larger size, occurring in even greater abundance. They are frequently an inch and a half in diameter when expanded, and some are even