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By the Rev. Edwaed Peacock, M.A. 



" The mountains, the forests, the valleys in truth, 

 Each charms to the traveller give ; 

 But give me the Downs, for I loved them in youth. 

 And I'll love them as long as I live." 



^^^HE county in which this magazine chiefly circulates, has, 

 ^^i ^^^^ ^^® exception of a few others, a feature peculiar to it- 

 self, viz., "the Downs." It is very probable that many people 

 look upon these open, uncultivated tracts, as a most uninteresting 

 sort of country — bleak — and bare — and, in a certain measure, barren. 

 A person crossing them in bad weather, especially should a strong 

 easterly wind be sweeping across them, may fairly be pardoned if 

 he should use rather strong terms of dislike in speaking of them. 

 The rain and the wind, unchecked in their course, seem on them 

 to have a doubly penetrating power ; and the very best waterproof 

 garment will afford but a very imperfect protection. On a rainy 

 day the prospect presented to the traveller has something in it 

 peculiarly disheartening : a few clumps of trees, or here and there 

 a barrow, may slightly modify the general haze ; but even such 

 objects as these are frequently scarce. The shepherd, too, when 

 seen under such circumstances, has little about him suggestive of 

 the delights of pastoral life, as described by poets. Clad in a cast- 

 off infantry great coat, he stands with head bent down to avoid the 

 rain, whilst his dog crouches at his feet, the picture of misery. 

 How different, however, do the downs appear when the weather is 

 fine : to those who delight in horse exercise, what can present a 

 more pleasurable prospect than a stretch of their elastic surface, 

 on which even the horse, whose work is nearly done, seems endowed 

 with new vigour, and strikes out almost with the action of his 

 prime. Men, too, who hunt, though they may miss the excitement 

 of the constant fencing which an enclosed country affords, must 



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