182 AN OCTOBER ABROAD. 



the Old World had not been the least of the attrac- 

 tions of my visit, though I knew the chances were 

 against me so late in the season, and I have to thank 

 my good genius for guiding me to the right place at 

 the right time. To get out of London was delight 

 enough, and then to find myself quite unexpectedly 

 on these soft rolling hills, of a mild October day, 

 in full sight of the sea, with the larks pouring out 

 their gladness overhead, was to me good fortune in- 

 deed. 



The South Downs form a very remarkable feature 

 of this part of England, and are totally unlike any 

 other landscape I ever saw. I believe it is Huxley 

 who applies to them the epithet of muttony, which 

 they certainly deserve, for they are like the backs of 

 immense sheep, smooth, and round, and fat so 

 smooth indeed, that the eye can hardly find a place 

 to take hold of, not a tree, or bush, or fence, or house, 

 or rock, or stone, or other object, for miles and miles, 

 save here and there a group of straw-capped stacks, 

 or a flock of sheep crawling slowly over them, at- 

 tended by a shepherd and dog, and the only lines 

 visible, those which bound the squares where different 

 t rops had been gathered. The soil was rich and mel- 

 low, like a garden hills of chalk with a pellicle of 

 black loam. 



These hills stretch a great distance along the coast, 

 ind are cut squarely off by the sea, presenting on this 

 lide a chain of white chalk cliffs suggesting the old 

 Latin name of this land, Albion. 



