240 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



The jackdaws occasionally floating out from the 

 ledge are as mere specks from above, as they were 

 from below. The reef running out from the beach, 

 though now covered by the tide, is visible as you look 

 down on it through the water ; the seaweed, which lay 

 matted and half dry on the rocks, is now under the 

 wave. Boats have come round, and are beached; 

 how helplessly little they seem beneath the cliff by 

 the sea ! 



On returning homewards towards Eastbourne stay 

 awhile by the tumulus on the slope. There are 

 others hidden among the furze; butterflies flutter 

 over them, and the bees hum round by day; by 

 night the night-hawk passes, coming up from the 

 fields and even skirting the sheds and houses below. 

 The rains beat on them, and the storm drives the dead 

 leaves over their low green domes; the waves boom 

 on the shore far down. 



How many times has the morning star shone 

 yonder in the East ? All the mystery of the sun and 

 of the stars centres around these lowly mounds. 



But the glory of these glorious Downs is the breeze. 

 The air in the valleys immediately beneath them is 

 pure and pleasant ; but the least climb, even a 

 hundred feet, puts you on a plane with the atmo- 

 sphere itself, uninterrupted by so much as the tree- 

 tops. It is air without admixture. If it comes from 

 the south, the waves refine it ; if inland, the wheat and 

 flowers and grass distil it. The great headland and 

 the whole rib of the promontory is wind-swept and 

 washed with air; the billows of the atmosphere roll 

 over it. 



