The lighthouse has now, as Mr. Smiles remarks, withstood the storms of upwards of a century—a solid monument to the genius of its architect and builder. Sometimes, he says,[30] when the sea rolls in with more than ordinary fury from the Atlantic, and the billows are driven up the Channel by the force of a south-west wind, the lighthouse is enveloped in spray, and its light momentarily obscured. But the shadow passes, and once more it beams across the waters like a star, a signal and a warning to the homeward bound. Occasionally, when a strong wave strikes it, the central portion of the wave shoots up the perpendicular shaft and leaps quite over the lantern. At other times, a colossal billow hurls itself upon the lighthouse, as if to shake it from its foundation; and to its inmates the shock is like that of a cannon; the windows rattle, the doors jar, and the building trembles to its very base. But the vibration felt throughout the lighthouse on such an occasion, instead of being a sign of weakness, is the best evidence that can be desired of the unity of the fabric and the cohesion of all its parts. [30] Smiles, “Lives of the Engineers,” ii. 45. * * * * * When the Eddystone was built, scarcely any other light guided the mariner in his intricate navigation of the Channel; but now it is abundantly illuminated along its whole extent, and its course is almost as easily tracked as that of a main thoroughfare in London. First comes the St. Agnes Light, on one of the Scilly Isles, revolving every minute, at an elevation of 138 feet above high water. Next are made the two Lizard Lights, which crown the rugged cliffs at the southernmost point of the English coast. In the deep curve between this bold headland and the craggy promontories of Bolt Head and Start Point, lie the revolving light on St Anthony’s Point, and the two lights on Plymouth Breakwater; while out at sea, almost in front of Plymouth Sound, and midway between the Lizard and the Start, the waves beat and swirl around the Eddystone. On Start Point there are two lights: one revolving, for the Channel; and another fixed, to guide ships inshore clear of the Skerries. [Illustration: THE LIGHTSHIP AT THE NORE.] Continuing our voyage up Channel, we see on the south, off the coast of Jersey, the three Casquet Lights, and on the north the two fixed lights of Portland Hill. If we make for Portsmouth, we are guided by the light on the outermost Needle Rock and the harbour signals; but keeping out at sea, we pass St. Catherine’s, on the extreme southerly headland of the Isle of Wight, and next, the lights displayed at different heights on the Nab, and the single fixed light on the Owers vessel.