1 84 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



stroll distant; how much you would be deceived did 

 you attempt to walk thither ! The ascent here in front 

 seems nothing, but you must rest before you have reached 

 a third of the way up. Ditchling Beacon there, on the 

 left, is the very highest above the sea of the whole mighty 

 range, but so great is the mass of the hill that the glance 

 does not realise it. 



Hope dwells there, somewhere, mayhap, in the breeze, 

 in the sward, or the pale cups of the harebells. Now, 

 having gazed at these, we can lean back on the cushions 

 and wait patiently for the sea. There is nothing else, 

 except the noble sycamores on the left hand just before 

 the train draws into the station. 



The clean dry brick pavements are scarcely less crowded 

 than those of London, but as you drive through the 

 town, now and then there is a glimpse of a greenish mist 

 a r ar off between the houses. The green mist thickens 

 in one spot almost at the horizon ; or is it the dark nebu- 

 lous-sails of a vessel ? Then the foam suddenly appears 

 close at hand a white streak seems to run from house 

 to house, reflecting the sunlight : and this is Brighton. 



" How different the sea looks away from the pier ! " 

 It is a new pleasure to those who have been full of gaiety 

 to see, for once, the sea itself. Westwards, a mile beyond 

 Hove, beyond the coastguard cottages, turn aside from 

 the road, and go up on the rough path along the ridge 

 of shingle. The hills are away on the right, the sea on 

 the left ; the yards of the ships in the basin slant across 

 the sky in front. 



With a quick, sudden heave the summer sea, calm and 

 gleaming, runs a little way up the side of the groyne, and 

 again retires. There is scarce a gurgle or a bubble, but 

 the solid timbers are polished and smooth where the 

 storms have worn them with pebbles. From a grassy 



