Nay more: on the range of the Sussex coast—a very monotonous range—I am acquainted, at this present time of writing, with four beaches, which I do not scruple to pronounce totally different one from another. If I were shown the pebbles, I could generally tell from which quarter they came. But to become aware of variety, you must observe certain admitted facts. The frequenters of our coast-scenery, not one-tenth part of whom can plead the sad excuse of being invalids, usually know but little of the character of a beautiful beach lying in their intermediate neighbourhood. Ordinarily speaking, a man will be better informed concerning the plains of the Pampas, or the windings of the Coppermine River, than he is upon the nature of the soil which is under his feet, or of the bough which hangs over his head in the forest. And the reason of this is obvious; we neglect the reality for the sake of the appearance. We greedily devour certain stereotyped works as a kind of royal road to knowledge; but we omit to notice and inquire into the sensible objects which are strewn along our daily path. Of course, we pay the penalty in kind. Two-thirds of our “book-knowledge” is merely conceited ignorance; not the genuine gold, fit for current coin, but a baser metal washed over, which will stand no one in stead for long. I will now describe accurately three beaches which occur in three different counties. Any one who makes their acquaintance hereafter, especially if in quest of pebbles, will, I believe, recognize the original of each sketch. One of them now lies far away; but to think of them is like dwelling on the still vivid impressions of a dream. I am in a district of the New Red Sandstone, and as far as my eye can reach I see towering cliffs of a kindred formation, wheeling round or jutting out in foxy-coloured masses, while the innumerable points of shingle glow like an autumn stubble at their feet. I commence searching near the bright water-line, and what with the simple grandeur of the scene, and what with the balmy breath of the south, I insensibly stray onward for several miles, until the increasing weight in my pockets suggests a pause. Now I will sit down under the shadow of that mid-way rock, light a cigar, and inspect my treasures.