AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE 6$ 



recesses and alcoves into which the face of chalk has 

 been worn. On the great ocean highway in front, 

 vessels of every size and rig sail past on their outward 

 or homeward voyage. Though our perch above the 

 precipice is solitary, we yet feel within sight and touch 

 of the living world. Across the bay we mark the 

 smoke of distant villages and towns, and the fields and 

 woodlands that separate the scattered hamlets. Just 

 below, at the northern foot of the ridge, sheltered and 

 concealed among its woods, lies that home so dear 

 to lovers of English literature, where — 



' Groves of pine on either hand, 

 To break the blast of winter, stand, 

 And further on, the hoary channel 

 Tumbles a breaker on chalk and sand.' 



Nor are memorials of the past wanting to throw 

 over the scene the priceless charm of old memory and 

 tradition. The down is roughened here and there 

 with ' the grassy barrows of the happier dead.' The 

 steeples and towers of the country churches dotted 

 over the landscape, mark still, as they have done for 

 centuries, the heart of each parish and its quiet grave- 

 yard. It is a typically English scene, full of that 

 hallowed, historic interest, and of that subdued, un- 

 obtrusive beauty, where the lineaments of nature are 

 everywhere more or less concealed by the labours of 

 man, which constitute so chief a source of pleasure 

 in the landscapes of England. 



Here, surely, our literary censor may claim that 

 no room can be found for the foot of science. What 

 can we pretend to add to the charm of such scenery ; 

 or what can we do, if we touch it at all, but lessen 



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