Lighthouses form the _first_ line of the coast defences which man raises for his protection against the fury of the ocean. But there are many parts of the coasts of every maritime country which are unsuitable for their construction, whether they be built of stone or iron, and which, nevertheless, stand greatly in need of illumination. In England, especially, these points are numerous. Among others, we may refer to the Goodwin Sands—that fatal tract off the shore of Kent which has been the destruction of so many “tall ships” and “adventurous mariners,” whose name has for centuries been associated with the memory of the most deplorable disasters. On the entire coast of England there is probably no other locality so fatally connected with dismal stories of human suffering, and yet it was long impossible to warn the sailor from it by any certain agency. Lighthouses could not be stationed on its shifting sands; and it seemed as if this one wild waste must of necessity be abandoned to the pitiless winds and not more compassionate seas. However, towards the close of the last century, the idea occurred to one Robert Hamblin of substituting floating lights for fixed lights—a light_ship_ for a light_house_. * * * * * Robert Hamblin was an experienced and reputable barber of Lynn, who had married the daughter of a shipowner of that busy little seaport, and in due time had become master of a vessel. He was engaged in the coasting trade—in carrying coal from Newcastle to other ports—and was thus well enabled to judge of the inadequate manner in which the eastern coast was lighted. Accident, after a time, introduced him to a man whose brain was full of grand projects, but who was cruelly hampered by poverty—David Avery; and the two, combining their resources—the one finding the money, the other the intellect—established at the Nore a floating light on board a ship, and assumed a right of levying tolls for the maintenance of this new pharos (A.D. 1732).