I may note here, finally, that to a true connoisseur, the prettiest moss-agates are not so welcome as those which exhibit a bold and haggard style. Some of the French pebbles, from the neighbourhood of Dieppe, would be very fine indeed, only that they are spoiled by an undue quantity of black “moss,” as black as mud. Most of the above-named treasures may be obtained by any one who owns a fair amount of perseverance, provided he or she have an eye for pebbles. And nobody need be discouraged from the search, who likes them well enough to be willing to take a good deal of trouble to find them. One-half of what are counted difficulties in this life have their root and growth in our constitutional laziness, and may be overcome by a little energy. We have all of us an eye for ripe cherries and red roses, why not for pebbles? * * * * * Let me now state in a few brief paragraphs the merits of the case. People say there is luck in all things. It may be so, once or twice; I never knew it hold for a continuance. A course of practical experience in almost any department of life will bring a sure quietus to such crude fancies. The searcher after pebbles must look to more sterling qualifications. He should have good legs, good eyes, good judgment, and—I may as well say it at once—a good temper. He should choose a likely part of an unfrequented beach: and should go down at the right hour, somewhere about half-tide, when the tide _is running out_. It is as well for him to walk with the sun a little behind him, and on one side; and I would recommend him, if possible, to avoid entertaining a north-easter in his teeth. Then he should be suitably rigged for the expedition. If he has ever fished salmon, he will need no wrinkles here: but in case not, I may specify the following. Strong ancle-boots, with double soles and on real hob-nails, and a stout woollen sock within; rough trowsers, which he will not grudge damping in the brine; and a coat of fustian or tweed, with ample pockets. When the season is wintry, add to these a warm wrapper for the neck; and, in one of his pockets, a Cording’s india-rubber cape with sleeves. A water-proof cap, with a curtain to it. No umbrella, no stick; but a light geologist’s hammer; and a canvas-bag, worked with open meshes, for the heavier specimens, which otherwise he would have to carry in his hand. If he is going far, and it is as well to count upon eight or ten miles from home, let him carry a flask of any liquid he likes best to imbibe; together with a hunch of bread and cheese. [N.B. This will be found more sustaining than a meat-sandwich.] Lastly, a few mild cigars, not omitting the usual implements for striking a light _sub dio_. The fragrant weed is always a cheerful companion, and doubly welcome when your path lacks flowers: moreover, it has historical associations, which cabbages have not, and will bring to mind Sir Walter Raleigh, who was a great man.