occupies, so that the view from the top of the 199 steps we have
climbed is not altogether vitiated. A distinctive feature of the west
side of the river has been lost in the sails of the Union Mill, which
were taken down some years ago, and the solid brick building where many
of the Whitby people, by the excellent method of cooperation, obtained
their flour at reduced prices is now the headquarters of some
volunteers.

The town seems to have no idea of re-erecting the sails of the windmill,
and as I have so far heard of no scheme for demolishing the
unpleasant-looking houses on the West Cliff, we will shut our eyes to
these shortcomings, and admit that the task is not difficult in the
presence of such a superb view over Whitby's glorious surroundings. We
look over the chimney-stacks of the topmost houses, and see the silver
Esk winding placidly in the deep channel it has carved for itself; and
further away we see the far-off moorland heights, brown and blue, where
the sources of the broad river down below are fed by the united efforts
of innumerable tiny streams deep in the heather. Behind us stands the
massive-looking parish church, with its Norman tower, so sturdily built
that its height seems scarcely greater than its breadth. There is surely
no other church with such a ponderous exterior that is so completely
deceptive as to its internal aspect, for St. Mary's contains the most
remarkable series of beehive-like galleries that were ever crammed into
a parish church. They are not merely very wide and ill-arranged, but
they are superposed one above the other. The free use of white paint all
over the sloping tiers of pews has prevented the interior from being as
dark as it would have otherwise been, but the result of all this painted
deal has been to give the building the most eccentric and indecorous
appearance. Still, there are few who will fail to thank the good folks
of Whitby for preserving an ecclesiastical curiosity of such an unusual
nature. The box-pews on the floor of the church are separated by very
narrow gangways--we cannot call them aisles--and the gallery across the
chancel arch is particularly noticeable for the twisted wooden columns
supporting it. Various pews in the transepts and elsewhere have been
reserved for many generations for the use of people from outlying
villages, such as Aislaby, Ugglebarnby, and Hawskercum-Stainsacre, and
it was this necessity for accommodating a very large congregation tha