CHAP. IV. SMEATON'S LIGHTHOUSE ON THE EDDYSTONE. 45 



erected. About three years after its completion, one 

 of the most terrible storms ever known raged for 

 days along the south-west coast ; and though incalcu- 

 lable ruin was inflicted upon harbours and shipping 

 by the hurricane, all the damage done to the lighthouse 

 was repaired by a little gallipot of putty. 



The Eddystone Lighthouse has now withstood the 

 storms of nearly a century, a solid monument to the 

 genius of its architect and builder. Sometimes, when 

 the sea rolls in with more than ordinary fury from the 

 Atlantic, driven up the Channel by the force of a 

 south-west wind, the lighthouse is enveloped in spray 

 and its light is momentarily obscured. But again it is 

 seen shining clear like a star across the waters, a warning 

 and a guide to the homeward-bound. Occasionally, when 

 struck by a strong wave, the central portion shoots up 

 the perpendicular shaft and leaps quite over the lan- 

 tern. At other times, a tremendous wave hurls itself 

 upon the lighthouse, as if to force it from its foundation. 

 The report of the shock to one within is like that of a 

 cannon : the windows rattle, the doors slam, and the 

 building vibrates and trembles to its very base. But 

 the tremor felt throughout the lighthouse in such a case, 

 instead of being a sign of weakness, is the strongest 

 proof of the unity and close connection of the fabric in 

 all its parts. 1 



Many a heart has leapt with gladness at the cry of 



1 At first the men appointed as 

 liglitkeepers were much alarmed by 

 the fury of the waves during storms. 

 The year after the light was exhi- 

 bited, the sea raged so furiously that 

 for twelve days together it dashed 

 over the lighthouse so that the men 

 could not open the door of the lan- 

 tern or any other. In a letter ad- 

 dressed to Mr. Jessop by the man 

 who visited the rock after such a 

 storm, he says : " The house did shake 

 as if a man had been up in a great 

 tree. The old men were almost 



frightened out of their lives, wishing 

 they had never seen the place, and 

 cursing those that first persuaded 

 them to go there. The fear seized 

 them in the back, but rubbing them 

 with oil of turpentine gave them re- 

 lief." Since then, custom has alto- 

 gether banished fear from the minds 

 of the lighthouse-keepers. The men 

 became so attached to their home, 

 that Mr. Smeaton mentions the case 

 of one of them who was even accus- 

 tomed to give up to his companions 

 his turn for going on shore ! 



