The life of the guardian of a blazing signpost of the coast is much the same the whole world over. It is unavoidably monotonous under the best conditions. Each succeeding day and night brings a similar round of toil, with very little variation. There are the same duties to be performed in strict accordance with routine, and under normal circumstances there are many idle hours which have to be whiled away as best one can. On the mainland, especially in the South of England, France, Germany, and the United States, the loneliness and monotony are not felt so keenly by the wardens of the light, as in many instances they are in close proximity to ports and towns, where a little welcome relaxation may be obtained during the rest spells; while in the summer evenings, if the lights should be only a few miles away from civilization, visitors are frequent. Again, the keepers as a rule live with their families in cosy solid buildings, and, having a stretch of garden flanking their homes, can expend their hours of leisure to advantage. On the isolated, lonely rock, however, the conditions are vastly different. The average person, when regarding on a calm day the tall slim outlines of a tower rising from the water, is apt to regard the life of those responsible for keeping the light going as one enveloped in romance and peace, far removed from the trials and worries of the maelstrom of civilization. But twenty-four hours on one of these beacons completely dispel all romantic impression. The gilt of fascination wears away quickly, and the visitor recognizes only too forcibly the terrible desolation of it all, and admires the little band of men who watch vigilantly over the deep for the guidance of those who go down to the sea in ships. The keepers of such stations are marooned as completely as any castaway on a barren island. In many instances they cannot even signal to the shore. If anything should go wrong, they must wait until a ship comes in sight, to communicate their tidings by flag signals. If the call is urgent, say for illness, and the passing boat carries a doctor, she will heave to, and, if conditions permit, will launch a boat to carry the medical man to the rock to administer aid. If it is a matter of life or death, the ship will take the man off.