40 
he could not enforce this, as the “ ox-settle,” or ‘‘ ox-shelter,” 
or its remains, were found not long ago. A neighbouring valley 
was Called Bible Bottom, from an ancient (?) cattle enclosure in 
the valley. It had been ploughed over within the last fifty years, 
and the farmer earned great obloquy for having ploughed up the 
bible. 
The closing passages of Mr. Jenner’s paper were devoted to 
the Downs of modern times, and the speaker dwelt upon their 
beautiful contour, their never failing variety, and their health 
giving air. Very few artists had succeeded in representing them 
accurately. Their native animals were few—the fox, the hare, 
the rabbit, and a few small animals such as the stoat. Birds were 
numerous in the wooded portions. In no part could the 
nightingale be heard so well, while the cuckoo rejoiced in the 
wooded valleys: The wheatear, which was formerly considered a 
luxury, still occurred, though it was caught by thousands by the 
old-time shepherd ; and anyone reclining on the soft turf could 
not help exclaiming, ‘‘ Hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings.” 
The Great Bustard formerly occurred near Lewes, and he knew a 
man who had seen them; and the stone curlew, he hoped, still 
occurred on Kingston Hill. There were still many lovely haunts 
of birds where, with a good field glass, one could watch the 
birds at leisure. Many of the rarest of migratory birds had 
chosen to alight on the Downs after their cross-sea passage. The 
neighbourhood of Black Rock used to be famous for arriving 
migrants, and the late Mr. Monk obtained many of his birds-— 
the collection of which had just been secured by Brighton—from 
that locality. Among them was a “ Richards pipit,” and he well 
remembered Mr. Monk shewing him a telegram worded: “If 
you wish to see A Richards alive come at once,” which caused 
him consternation and bewilderment. 
In the hangers and copses, especially on the northern slopes, 
many good snails might be taken. He named some of the 
varieties, as also shells to be found on the southern slopes of the 
Downs near Lewes. In the autumn, two species were in great 
profusion. As to butterflies, they had on the South Downs the 
largest number that occurred in any British locality—clouded 
yellows, the painted lady, and an army of blues. A colony of 
the marbled white M. galathea resided near Firle Beacon. Many 
rare moths were also to be found, and other rare insects could be 
taken on the short turf at night by means of a lantern, though 
the experience of searching was a weird one. The loneliness 
and sclitude of parts of the Downs was, indeed, quite striking, 
even in the daytime, but at night it was remarkable. There 
seemed to be some influence of late, he knew not what, that had 
lessened the number of good insects, though perhaps the farmer 
would tell them that it had not lessened the wireworm or the 
aphis. 
—_— 
