But the value of lighthouses was getting to be too widely appreciated for a scheme like that at Portland to be crushed, because it was thought that ‘navigation’ paid enough for light dues already. The seamen clamoured and raised public opinion on their side, and so the Trinity House thought the best thing to do was for itself to propose lighthouses at Portland, which it did, and obtained a patent on May 6, 1716. The superior economy of the ‘closed’ fire-light was then, as we have seen in other instances, attracting attention, and the fire at the higher lighthouse at Portland was arranged on that plan; but it did no better there than elsewhere, and in 1731 we find the mariners ‘who used the western trade’ urging the Trinity Board to ‘open’ the fires on the lighthouses there, and allow the smoke to escape, instead of dimming and clouding the glass. But probably ill-keeping had as much as anything to do with the badness of the lights, which was frequently a subject of complaint by nautical men. In 1752 we get a curious picture of the condition in which the lights were maintained: two brethren of the Trinity House, who had been sent to consider the position of a proposed lighthouse at the Lizard, thought well to inspect those at Portland, and approached them on a summer’s evening by sea. ‘It was,’ they say, ‘nigh two hours after sunset before any light appeared in either of the lighthouses.’ Then, in the lower light, there came a faint glimmer, which continued for about an hour, and ceased. Half an hour after, a light appeared in the upper lighthouse, and gave a very fitful light, only showing at intervals for the first hour, and then ‘gave a tolerable good light,’ though not so steady as the lower. The two brethren asked the captain of their boat if this state of things was the rule or the exception, and received an answer that the ill-keeping was the rule; the lights never showed in time, and often not all through the night. It must be said to the credit of these two brothers that they suggested that the captain and his friends, who ‘used the coasting trade,’ should memorialize the Trinity House on the subject. West of Portland, none of the other headlands from that, as far as Plymouth, were marked by lighthouses till within a hundred years ago—that is to say, as far as we know. What may have been the case before the dissolution of the monasteries cannot now be definitely ascertained; there are many ruined chapels along the coast between these two points, and there is a legend connected with that which stands on the hill above Torquay, to the effect that it was founded by a sailor who had been rescued from shipwreck near the spot, and who—as a thankoffering for safety—gave money to support a small band of monks from Torr Abbey to keep a light there for the benefit of ships going up and down the Channel.