ON THE SUSSEX DOWNS 
25 
doth, and secured by an ordinary pair of straps with a handle. 
A dozen sheets or so of botanical drying paper or ordinary 
blotting paper are carried in such a field press. 
ON THE SUSSEX DOWNS. 
FIELD Naturalist has many longings, and in that 
respect, perhaps, resembles most members of the 
Genus Homo. The writer had long numbered amongst 
his desires the opportunity of visiting the far-famed 
chalk hills of Sussex, better known as the Downs, and particu- 
larly the South Downs in the neighbourhood of Beachy Head. 
Recently his wish became a reality, and this unpretentious essay 
recounting some of his experiences may perchance afford inter- 
esting reading. 
To a resident of Hertfordshire, one of the chief features 
which attracts one when rambling over these mighty Downlands 
is the absence of trees, woods and copses. Moreover, one 
misses, too, the quiet, leafy lanes and shady nooks, sylvan 
scenes enjoyed at home. True, in some of the valleys one 
stumbles unexpectedly upon a sequestered village or hamlet in 
the near vicinity of which there are a few leafy lanes which 
remind the rambler strikingly of Hertfordshire, but for the most 
part these leafy spots are few and far between. For all that, 
the landscape and seascape views are indeed beautiful to behold. 
Hill and valley succeed hill and valley, the Downs seem to roll 
on one after another until, they reach and seem to tumble into 
the sea when one gazes seawards, or, turning to right about, 
until they reach the Weald of Sussex, where we may catch more 
glimpses of the scenes we know so well in Hertfordshire than 
are to be observed when in the very heart of Downland. 
When the heat of the Weald and in the lanes bordering the 
Downs is stifling and oppressive, then is the time for the rambler 
to mount one of the Sussex headlands and inhale the pure, 
invigorating air. True, some of these hill climbs are somewhat 
fatiguing and the springy turf is as slippery as ice where the 
slope is extra steep, but the view when the summit is reached, 
and the bracing air, amply repay the climb. 
What strikes the thoughtful rambler over these South 
Downs, too, is, how and when were these vast mountains of 
chalk constructed ? The former question may be answered 
somewhat briefly and intelligently, the second question is a mere 
matter of conjecture and will probably ever remain a mystery. 
Is the reader aware that these chalk hills were formed many, 
many decades ago by countless millions of small shell-fish, tiny 
atoms which require the powerful agency of the microscope to 
reveal in all their wonder and beauty ? Yet is it not wonderful 
to reflect that these atoms of shell life when they have fallen to 
