INTRODUCTION 



" Come unto those yellow sands, 

 And there take hands " 



Even the happy people of whom the strange phrase is used, that "money is no 

 object to them," cannot command fate altogether. They are mortal in respect of 

 their minds; and cannot, with all appliances, get away from the inexorable law which 

 rules that whoever would find the world interesting must work out an interest in 

 it for himself. Much ma.y be done, it is true, by unlimited wealth, to stave off the 

 hour of enmci, but nothing answers so effectually as a healthy, earnest employment, 

 whether of body or mind. Everything but what a man labours for becomes weari- 

 some to him after a time — a cherished occupation never; for although on some 

 particular day he may have tired himself in its pursuit, the object pursued is as 

 dear to him as ever, when the next morning's sun wakes him from the blessing of 

 rest to the still higher blessing of exertion. 



It may seem strange to open an introduction to a set of sea-weed descriptions 

 with a somewhat trite moral reflection, but it has its particular mission in this particular 

 case. It justifies the labour to which the book calls its readers, as well as that 

 which the writer has gone through; and holds out to the former the encouragement 

 of hope that their trouble will not be thrown away. 



It was once prettily said by a lady who cultivated flowers, that she had "buried 

 many a care in her garden;" and the sea- weed collector can often say the same of 

 his garden — the shore; as many a loving disciple could testify, who, having taken up 

 the pursuit originally as a resource against weariness, or a light possible occupation 

 during hours of sickness, has ended by an enthusiastic love, which throws a charm 

 over every sea-place on the coast, however dull and ugly to the world in general; 

 makes every day spent there too short, and every visit too quickly ended. Only let 

 there be sea, and plenty of low, dark rocks stretching out, peninsular-like, into it; 

 and only let the dinner-hour be fixed for high-water time, — and the loving dis- 

 ciple asks no more of fate. Turn him out on that flat, and, to you (0 Gentile of 

 the outer courts), uninteresting shore, with a basket, a bottle, a stick, a strong pair 

 of boots (oiled, not polished with blacking), and, let us add, to crown the comfort, 

 a strong, friendly, and willing, if not learned companion; and all the crowned heads 

 of Europe may be shaken without his being able to feel that he cares. When the 

 returning tide has driven him backwards from his best hunting grounds, and sent 

 him home at last to dinner and things of the earth, earthy, the squabbles of nations 

 may come in for a share of his attention perhaps; but, even then, only imperfectly, 

 for the collected treasures have to be examined and preserved, and the heart of the 

 collector yearns after them. 



