In like manner, I am convinced that to master anything, whether bodily or intellectual, the all-important point is to make a genuine effort of our own. Books may do something for us; teachers, if we can afford them, something more; but we must do the main part ourselves. I am reminded of the above in proposing to describe a good beach. A lapidary once said to me, “Sir, you know this bit of the coast as well as I do myself.” It was a high compliment, but it was not unmerited. The truth is, I possess “memoranda,” jotted down from time to time, of divers beaches and their usual contents, and I find that, omitting all mention of bare reefs in shale and sandstone, or long reaches of sand, which are of continual occurrence, there remain some forty odd miles of shingle lying in three different parts of the English coast, with the character of which I am thoroughly well acquainted. Some of these beaches are very superior to others, and I select such for description. Amid countless boulders of flint, and heaps of hardened gravel, we have upon a good beach certain smooth, translucent pebbles, and we have fossil petrifactions enveloped in an opaque crust, and we have the variegated jaspers and moss-agates. Our semi-pellucid stones were, with the exception of an occasional bit of “bloodstone,” the only pebbles of native growth known in Britain half a century ago. They consist of two or three varieties of agate, two of carnelian, and one of the crystal called an aquamarine. The presence of this latter on the coast is a mere accident, as it is for the most part a far-inland production, the growth of granitic rocks. Agates and carnelians were once of frequent occurrence, but they have now become scarce. Their brilliancy insures their being instantly seen, when not buried under the loose shingle. AGATE, with us, is always found smooth, and some of the best specimens are indented on the sides, as if they had been subjected to a pinch or pressure while in a soft state. As this substance is not met with under the spiked form of a crystal, we may suppose that it never was crystallized. It is not laminar, like the diamond, nor coated, like a pearl, but one simple concretion. It contains some alumina, but more silica, and is probably one form of the onyx-stone. It is seldom very bright, being more or less debased with earthy particles, but it is a pretty thing to pick up, and it takes a high polish on the wheel of the lapidary. I believe it is harder than jasper, but perhaps scarcely so _tough_. In England, we find the agates greenish white, lemon colour, or dark grey; and on the island of Iona, hard by the ruined monastery, they are picked up of a soft green hue, and as clear as a chrysolite. The best lump of agate I ever saw came from an unfrequented bay in the Isle of Wight; the colours were dullish, but in texture it approached an oriental onyx, and it weighed above a pound. I know of no equal specimen in the collection of the British Museum.