of exposure and aspect of the shore; yet
the tidal current remains, for all practical
purposes, the same. The largest pebbles
are invariably found to leeward: that is,
they increase in size from Abbotsbury to
Portland, from north-west to south-east.
Moreover, there is a very marked and rapid
increase between Wyke and Portland. Yet
it is precisely at this point that the tide
begins to slacken; nor is it any way reasonable
to suppose that a stream, varying only
from half a knot to one knot per hour, should
exert any sufficient influence upon the gigantic
mass. Let us assume, then, that the tidal currents
do not bring the pebbles to the bank, but
that the wind-waves yield the active force,
thrown as they are upon the west bay coast
by the prevailing west and south-west winds.
So we shall understand why the large
pebbles are found to leeward. They present
a greater surface to the waves, and are
moved along more readily in consequence.
If we throw a pebble of the size of an
orange upon a beach composed of smaller
pebbles, we see it rolled up and down more
actively than smaller particles, which form
as a mass a generally even plane, and expose
individually only a small part of their
surface to the action of the wave.

A little farther study of the coast shows
how the very same winds that drove in the
seas to start the shingle, drive in seas that
stop it. The sharp angle in the direction of
the shore—causes the shingle to sweep
round and meet, in an easterly direction,
waves that are coming from the very same
quarters as those which originally gave
it motion. One incidental proof that the
ultimate movement of shingle along this
coast is decidedly eastward, is well worth
mentioning. Years ago, at the time when
flints were in general demand for gun-locks,
and for striking lights in domestic uses, it
was the constant custom to send from Budleigh
Salterton to Sidmouth, or Branscombe,
to procure them, as none could be found
upon the beach at the former place.

The extraordinary isolation of the bank
from the land for upwards of ten miles is,
probably, due, in part, to the existence of a
level beach of clay under the shingle; in part
to the sudden drop seaward. This clay
beach has been found, as yet, on the east or
inner side only; where it lies in certain points
at a level of from three to four feet above
low-water of spring tides. At some distance
below the surface, sand is often found mixed
with the shingle, and that to such extent,
that it has required a power of many tons to
extract, from a depth of eighteen or twenty
feet, a bar of an inch and a quarter in
diameter. The great elevation of the shingle
is to be attributed to the unusual depth of
water close beside it, upwards of eight fathoms
at the distance of a cable's length. This
surprising depth it is which allows the heaviest
seas, checked by no shoal-water in the offing,
to fall on the bank with great violence, and
throw up shingle with a will.

The force of the sea on the Chesil Bank
during a heavy south-west gale is tremendous.
It often happens that the water receding from
any wave just broken, meets that of the wave
next in order, in its progress shoreward.
The concussion is so great, that an enormous
quantity of broken water and spray will
sometimes rise perpendicularly into the air
to a height of sixty or seventy feet. Meets
of this sort have broken up stranded vessels
instantaneously of two hundred tons burthen.
And then, what masses of shingle will the
sea on fit occasion scour away! After
the gale of December the twenty-seventh,
eighteen hundred and fifty-two, the quantity
scoured off between Abbotsbury and
Portland was accurately ascertained to have
been three millions seven hundred and sixty-three
thousand three hundred tons! By
sections taken at the next spring-tides, it
was found that—after the gale, and between
the same points—there had been thrown in
two millions, six hundred and seventy-one
thousand, five hundred tons. On November
the twenty-third, of the same year, the wind,
which had been light during the day, suddenly
freshened to half a gale at four P.M., blowing
south and south-west, and at eight P.M., had
almost died atway again. Here was a duration
of only four hours, yet it was sufficient
to start a very heavy groundswell on the
bank, which scoured away during the night
and early morning, four millions and a-half
of tons. Measurements were taken five days
afterwards, and it was found that three
millions and a half had been thrown back
again during that interval!

The wandering shingle has nevertheless, at
Chesil, at least the appearance of rest; the
long line of the isthmus is finished, and the
noble curve complete. It is hard to say too
much of the extreme beauty of this curve,
and of the grand view which is to be had of it
from the summit of the hill, more especially
when the bank has its western slope fringed
with the broad white foam of a heavy sea,
and wears a veil of cloudy spray.

But now for the Breakwater, of man's
devising:

We land from the steamer about midway
between the Breakwater and the shingly
isthmus. Turning to the left from the end of
the small pier, a quarter of a mile of road
skirting the beach, and flanked on the right
by the slope of underlying clay which forms
the base of Portland, we come to the entrance
gate of the Works. Names must be entered here
in the visitors' book; two melancholy policemen
narrowly eye our method of penmanship
and eagerly peruse names and addresses
when our backs are turned. We walk
forward at once towards the huge staging.
The pathway is lined with blocks of stone,
iron rails, and timbers; here and there lies a
broken pile, with the shoe and Mitchell's