We now enter on a scene which gives us a complete picture of the Undercliff in all its genuine lines,—­for it was the subject of an extensive landslip in the year 1799, when a tract of about one hundred acres was disturbed, the whole sliding forward in a mass towards the sea, rifting into frightful chasms, and alternately rising and falling like the waves of the sea:  a cottage was overturned, but fortunately no lives were lost.

[Illustration:  THE UNDERCLIFF, Between the Sandrock Hotel & the Chalybeate Spring,—­affording the best idea of the romantic character of that part of the Isle of Wight.]

The annexed Plate of “the Undercliff, as it appears between the Sandrock Hotel and Blackgang Chine,” is introduced in order to give an idea of the general aspect of this singular tract:  the wall-like precipice which is the land-boundary rises abruptly on the right:  the intermediate space to the sea-shore is broken into a series of craggy knolls and dells:  the carriage-road threading its way between immense masses of the fallen cliff,—­now conducted along the margin of a dangerous slope or precipice; and now descending into a theatre of detached rocks and wild vegetation; but even here, though the softer charms of scenery be wanting, it proves that ...

                —­“Whether drest or rude,
    Wild without art, or artfully subdued,
    Nature in every form inspires delight.”

* * * * *

>> The individual objects in the neighbourhood of Niton, calling for particular remark, are few; notwithstanding the general aspect of the scenery is strikingly wild and sombre.  The LIGHT-HOUSE will force itself on our attention:  the CHALYBEATE SPRING ought not to be passed by unnoticed; but the crowning feature of the district is BLACKGANG CHINE, a scene of the most terrific grandeur.

ST. CATHARINE’S LIGHT-HOUSE.

[Illustration:  ST. CATHARINE’S LIGHT-HOUSE NITON, ISLE OF WIGHT.]

The building of this lofty tower was commenced in the spring of 1839, and finished in the following year:  the undertaking having originated in consequence of the loss of the ship Clarendon (see p. 85).  From the frequent wrecks on this most dangerous part of the coast, it is rather surprizing that such a warning friend to the hapless mariner was not erected before:  because many of the catastrophes were owing to the want of some light or signal in the night, which could be distinctly seen by seamen long ere they reached the fatal shore.  It is true indeed, that between 50 and 60 years ago, a Light-house was built on the summit of St. Catharine’s down, but for some reason not known to the public, it never was equipped and lighted:  and was in fact very soon abandoned.  It has been said that the site was too elevated, that it would be quite obscured by fogs and mists in those very seasons when its friendly ray was the most required;—­it might be so, but certainly that was never proved by the experiment:  and it seems strange that these grounds of objection were not suggested to the projectors in time.