ON A CHALK HILL 217 



Sometimes, however, a spider will merely chew its own web 

 without swallowing any part of it. 



XLI. ON A CHALK HILL. 



At our feet is a tidal river a mile wide. Close behind 

 us are low hills crowned with beechwoods, which disclose 

 here and there the front, or it may be only the chimneys, 

 of a large country-house. Autumn cornfields lie on the 

 slopes between the plantations, and spread over the plain 

 beneath. Neat hedges, trim parks, and the frequent 

 towers of village churches tell us that this is a country of 

 wealthy proprietors. 



The river, like all great rivers, carries our thoughts far 

 beyond the plain through which it flows. To the east 

 we see low on the horizon the smoke of a great port. Slow 

 barges and now and then a sea-going steamer tell of busy 

 inland towns which find here one outlet for their wares. 

 The mud of the ebbing tide of the Humber has been washed 

 from the hills of Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, and half the 

 midland counties, and it is not only water and sediment 

 that are carried out to sea. The river bears along the 

 products of many a thriving English town ; we can follow 

 them far beyond the horizon to the mouths of great rivers 

 across the sea, the Meuse, the Scheldt, the Elbe and the 

 Weser, which stand open to receive what we send, or 

 to send what we are glad to receive. 



The hills about us are chalk hills, as an occasional quarry 

 shows. Even without the quarries no eye familiar with 

 the wolds and downs of chalkland could mistake such 

 contours as these. Towards the west we look down upon 

 a flat plain with interminable fields and hedges, a plain 

 of sand, marl, clay and gravel, out of which starts a bold 

 ridge, all but the very base formed of chalk. 



The chalk is here 600 feet thick, and dips gently towards 

 the east. If it were possible to sail southward in a balloon 



