here, to put the finishing stroke, and add the greatest effect to the whole, a high barrier, raised on the extreme summit of the hill, prevents the sight from obtaining a glimpse of the prospect, till, that summit being reached, the whole bursts in full sublimity on the delighted eye. Let the reader imagine himself placed on the top of a long extending chain of barren hills, stretching on either side and behind him. as far as the sight can reach, and without any relief to the monotonous appearance, and he will probably gaze around with discontent and disatisfaction; then let him, merely by suddenly turning in another direction, view extended beneath him, and as far as the limits of his vision can reach, all the beauties of nature in their fullest luxuriance, woody prospects, rustic villages, parks and villas, so numerous and so crowded that attention cannot fix on any particular part as more interesting or attractive than the rest, the whole presenting to his view one mass of blooming verdure and animated life, and he will not fail to be delighted and astonished. Such a scene, and such a transition as this, may be realized from the Devil's Dyke; and, however sanguine the expectation may be as to the beauty and interest of the landscape, it will not be disappointed by the reality. The Down stands, as it were, an immense barrier above the valley which lies beneath, and which is bounded, as far as the eye can reach on either side, with their lofty heights. From the point of view which we are now mentioning, and which commands the fullest and most extensive prospect over the adjacent country, the sides on the descent to the valley are very declivitous; so much so, that at one part, a stone thrown from the top, with a moderate degree of force, mets with no obstruction in rolling downwards to the bottom, and the descent is so deep, or rather the height of the hills from the valley beneath is so great, that objects of bulk assume but an inconsiderable size, and voices from the adjacent fields, or the lowings of cattle, can scarcely be heard, or at the best but in indistinct murmurs. From this commanding eminence, nearly the whole of the county of Sussex, and part of Hampshire, Surrey, and Kent, are to be overlooked, and on a fine day can be clearly observed. From this statement some idea may be formed of the vastness of the prospect. In the back ground is the extent of the Downs, over which we pass in our way to the Dyke, bounded by the ocean. On either side extends the chain of the South Down Hills, whilst before lies the luxurious landscape, which we have mentioned as comprising and exhibiting all the beauties of cultivation, throughout nearly the whole extent of four counties, and appearing the more pleasing from the contrast of the barren hills which bound it on both sides: the hill on which the miller's tomb stands may also be observed, and part of the prospect commanded from thence. But a great difference exists between, the different views. The former being a perfect panorama of all the district around; but this only a front prospect, on which the eye can rest, and contrast with the barrenness which surrounds it. Once more we will return to the point of observation, from the dyke, and notice a few of the most prominent objects observable from thence, premising that they are so numerous that we can select but a few of the principal towns and villages, to which to direct the attention. On the right, is the ancient village of Poynings, which is a barony, and possesses a curious cruciform church, built so early as the reign of Henry III. by Michael de Poynings. The baronial castle formerly stood in the village, but was destroyed by fire in the year 1724. Beyond this place, on the northeast, lies the neat village of Newton Bar; and on the right is Hurst Pierpoint,surrounded by lofty woods, and almost hidden beneath their shade. On the westward, skir ting the base of the Downs is the Hamlet of Folking, and on the left the town of Steyning, surmounted by the woody Hill of Chaickbury. The dyke itself has given birth to much surmise and conjecture. The work of human art is very apparent in many parts surrounding the dyke! and yet, so arduous an undertaking as the excavation of this dyke, seems almost too much to have been accomplished, by human efforts; and this perhaps has given rise to its appelation as being the work of an infernal. That part now more particularly termed the dyke, consists of a long winding chasm, of great depth and wide in extent, cut in a shelving direction, betwixt two immense hills. Around it are the remains of raised mounds, and of fosses, plainly indicating the existence of an ancient encampment and fortification; but no records in relation to it are to be found. Through ths dyke a path is cut, which leads into the valley beneath, and which is accessible to horses; and it will repay the visitors' trouble to descend through it. Accommodation and refreshment are easily to be obtained at Poynings, although not a single public house is established in the place. We may also observe, that a small house stands on the dyke hill, where eatables and refreshments may at all times be procured. Thus have we finished in a brief manner and by a few outlines, the description of the town of Brighton, and partially noticed some of its most attractive features. The mention of others of less consequence, which however, to some might have been equally interesting, has been necessarily avoided, to prevent a lengthened account. But to wind up the whole, and give a general summary of the character of this noted and fashionable place of resort, we may observe that, to the visitor for health it holds out every hope and reasonable prospect of deriving benefit from the salubrity of its air and generally admitted advantages; to the visitors for pleasure it offers it in every form, and by the most alluring means invites to the pursuit, and probable possession; to the lover of nature, and to the observer, the contemplation of the objects within it, the characters which frequent it, and the observation of the country and fine scenery which lies around it, cannot fail to afford a rich and ample repast; whilst to the casual stranger, whose engagements or means allow him but a partial and short enjoyment of its scenes and amusements, it will give full gratification without satiety, and when he has quitted it, will be to him, as it is to me, an object of pleasing and innocent remembrance. 1 Dec. 1821. P. N. * |