The result they had in view was thus obtained. But it was soon perceived that to separate the keepers from their families was to impose a heavy tax upon men whose pay was not too liberal; that to deprive them of the sweet domestic joys which are the legitimate reward of the cares and anxieties of paternity, was to increase the gloominess of their isolation, by rendering it more complete; and, finally, to expose them to the strong temptation of absenting themselves from the lighthouse at the hours their presence was most necessary. These inconveniences have been remedied by allotting to each keeper a separate house for himself and his family. It is, of course, impossible that a keeper’s family should be accommodated in a sea lighthouse, which consists of a single tower. They are, therefore, lodged on shore, near the port which keeps up the communication between the lighthouse and the mainland. In such a station life to many minds would be wearisome and monotonous. The wind sometimes blows with so much violence that the keepers can with difficulty breathe. They are then compelled to shut themselves up, as closely as possible, in a tower darkened by the wreathing fog, or by the foam of swelling waves, which envelopes it like a rent veil. On fine summer days, like the English light-keepers, they amuse themselves with fishing. If their abode is not encircled by rocks on which they can stretch their lines, they knot around the lighthouse tower, at a certain height, and immediately above the entrance, a stout rope, suspending some forty or fifty lines, each about four feet long. When the sea rises, the fish crawl along the wall, and snapping at the bait, are immediately hooked. The tide goes down, and lo, the tower is wreathed round with a complete festoon of fish! * * * * * Thus, then, the life of a lighthouse-keeper varies little, whether his post be situated on the English or the French shore, on a rock washed by English or by French waters, in the Mediterranean or the North Atlantic. It is a life not free from heavy shadows; but it is one eminently calculated to develop the patient and enduring qualities of a man, and to cultivate in him a habit of self-reflection. I do not think it should be stigmatized as dismal, though it is the fashion so to speak of it; but surely no life _can_ be dismal which is spent in the service of humanity, in steadfast devotion to the interests of others; no life _can_ be dismal which passes in constant contemplation of all the glories of the sky and all the splendours of the sea—in constant contemplation of the mightiest and sublimest of God’s works under their grandest and most solemn aspects! [Illustration] APPENDIX. A LIST OF LIGHTS ON THE BRITISH AND IRISH COASTS.[63] [63] Compiled from the Admiralty List, and corrected up to April 1870. [Lightships are indicated by the mark ([++]), pile lighthouses by (§).] ENGLAND. SOUTH COAST.