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Rh view of the deep blue ocean, a cool and refreshing sea breeze, and the ceaseless music of the waves. Yesterday we went by sea to Beachy Head, which is four or five miles from Eastbourne. Beachy Head is about 575 feet above the level of the sea, and when we ascended the top, we had a beautiful view all round. To walk in the green pasture lands and fields covered with the luxuriant verdure of spring, to scale the chalky cliffs of South England, or saunter on the green hills in the evening, silently watching the quiet windmills on the tops of hills, to hear the skylark pouring forth "harmonious madness" from its aerial height, to spend an evening on the pebbly beach, and hear the wild and ceaseless song of the restless waves which lull you not to sleep but to gentle thoughts and meditation, to have a pleasant row on the green sea, or a pleasant trip to a neighbouring village, such has been our occupation since we left London, and a most delightful occupation it is, I can assure you, after a long and weary year spent amidst the smoke and toil and dust of old London.

About four or five miles from Eastbourne are the ruins of Pevensy Castle. A bright halo from the distant past still lingers round its roofless and ivied walls, and will continue to linger till the last stone of the edifice moulders away to dust. Cæsar with his Roman legions, (if Professor Airy's supposition be correct), and William the Conqueror with his Norman host, landed at this point. We climbed up the ivied walls, walked on the grassy floors, crept under the broken windows, and saw the dark dungeons which tell a dismal tale of olden days.