It is not often that the utter loneliness and monotony of the daily round unhinges a keeper’s mind, but this awful fate overtook the warden of a somewhat isolated American light. The man had served with Admiral Dewey off Manila, and upon his return home the Government placed him in charge of a station as an occupation for the evening of his life, and as a recompense for faithful service. He settled down with his wife and family, but the isolation soon began to affect his brain. For days he would absent himself from the light, which would soon have failed had it not been for the unswerving devotion of his wife and the assistance of one of two friends living in the locality. They spared no effort to keep the beacon burning, lest the authorities might hear about the keeper’s strange behaviour, and deprive him of his charge, and, incidentally, of his livelihood. In due course the incident did reach the authorities, and, not knowing what was the matter with the man, they took action accordingly. As the keeper entered the station after one of his inexplicable expeditions of a fortnight’s duration, he was arrested for desertion. He was examined promptly by two doctors, who found him hopelessly insane, and was incarcerated in an asylum, where in the course of a few days he became a raving lunatic. Often the keepers, although only condemned to imprisonment for a certain period at a time, have to tolerate a longer stay, owing to the relief-boat being unable to approach them. In some instances the delay may run into five weeks or more. During the winter the relief of the Eddystone, Longships, Wolf, Fastnet, Skerryvore, and Dhu-Heartach lights is always a matter of extreme uncertainty. Although the men have to provide themselves with supplies, a reserve is maintained at the station by the authorities for such emergencies. Even some of the land stations are not approachable readily. There is the Punta Gorda light-station on the Californian coast, the situation of which is wild and forbidding. There is a landing about eight miles above the station, but it is extremely precarious. Still, unless a certain element of risk is accepted in coming ashore here, it is necessary to face a tramp or stage journey of nearly fifty miles across country in order to gain the lighthouse. The lighthouses in the Red Sea are, perhaps, among the most unenviable and trying in the world. This stretch of water, lying between two blistered coasts of sand, is no more or less than an oven, where even the strongest constitution finds it difficult to hold out for long. Moreover, the absence of civilization, owing to the extreme aridity of the country, renders the life exceptionally depressing. In the summer the heat is wellnigh intolerable. The thermometer hovers between 95° and 110° F. in the shade throughout the twenty-four hours, so that night brings no relief to the oppressiveness.