must have had a wrong notion of what I was to see. When I was near seven years old I was taken to Tynemouth in a passion of delight because I was to see the sea. Aunt Margaret took me and an older and a younger one to the haven. There when standing on the bank we were expected to exclaim about the sea, which flowed up to the foot of the bank, directly before our eyes. The other two children were delighted, but I could not see it. When questioned I was obliged to say so, and I said it with shame and reluctance. I well remember the misery; I believe it was thought affectation, like my indifference to scents. We were led down the bank, which was steep and difficult for children. Not till the gentle waves were at my very toes did I see the sea at all; and then it gave me a start, and a painful feeling of being a sort of idiot not to have seen it before. The revelation at last was very like that of a lightning flash. It may be mentioned that my only previous sight of the sea was of
