The coast we have described is most certainly not the one with the fullest attractions for the naturalist, for the cliffs lack those nooks that provide so much shelter for bird and beast, and the rugged coves and rock pools in which we find such a wonderful variety of marine life are nowhere to be seen. But, although it represents a _typical_ shore for a chalky district, yet we may find others of a very different nature even where the same rock exists. Thus, at Flamborough in Yorkshire, and St. Alban’s Head in Dorset, we find the hardened, exposed edge of the chalk formation terminating in bold and majestic promontories, while the inner edge surrounding the Weald gives rise to the famous cliffs of Dover and the dizzy heights of Beachy Head. The hard chalk of the Isle of Wight, too, which has so well withstood the repeated attacks of the Atlantic waves, presents a bold barrier to the sea on the south and east coasts, and terminates in the west with the majestic stacks of the Needles. [Illustration: FIG. 2.--WHITECLIFF (CHALK), DORSET] Where this harder chalk exists the coast is rugged and irregular. Sea birds find a home in the sheltered ledges and in the protected nooks of its serrated edge; and the countless wave-resisting blocks of weathered chalk that have been hurled from the heights above, together with the many remnants of former cliffs that have at last succumbed to the attacks of the boisterous sea, all form abundant shelter for a variety of marine plants and animals. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--PENLEE POINT, CORNWALL] But it is in the west and south-west of our island that we find both the most furious waves and the rocks that are best able to resist their attacks. Here we are exposed to the full force of the frontal attacks of the Atlantic, and it is here that the dashing breakers seek out the weaker portions of the upturned and contorted strata, eating out deep inlets, and often loosening enormous blocks of the hardest material, hurling them on the rugged beach, where they are eventually to be reduced to small fragments by the continual clashing and grinding action of the smaller masses as they are thrown up by the angry sea. Here it is that we find the most rugged and precipitous cliffs, bordering a more or less wild and desolate country, now broken by a deep and narrow chasm where the resonant roar of the sea ascends to the dizzy heights above, and anon stretching seaward into a rocky headland, whose former greatness is marked by a continuation of fantastic outliers and smaller wave-worn masses of the harder strata. Here, too, we find that the unyielding rocks give a permanent attachment to the red and olive weeds which clothe them, and which provide a home for so many inhabitants of our shallow waters. It is here, also, that we see those picturesque rock pools of all sizes, formed by the removal of the softer material of the rocks, and converted into so many miniature seas by the receding of the tide.