Entering the English Channel from the Scillies, the voyager observes the powerful Lizard light gleaming like two brilliant white stars from a prominent elevated point on the cliff. Formerly three lights were shown, but two were found to meet the necessities of the situation adequately. The steamship lane lies across the chord of the arc formed by the coastline between the Lizard and Start Point, leaving the Eddystone to the north. The next important light is the Needles, at the entrance to the Solent. A few miles farther on the brilliant spoke-light flashes of St. Catherine’s, described in another chapter, compel attention. No other light after this is seen until Beachy Head is approached. Another dreary stretch brings the vessel abeam the nose of Kentish coast known as Dungeness, a particularly notorious danger spot. Here there is a continual struggle between the engineers and the sea. While the waves gnaw into the coastline at other neighbouring places, here they surrender their capture, so that the headland is persistently creeping farther and farther out to sea. It is lighted, and has been guarded for years, but the tower is left at a constantly increasing distance from the water’s edge. The light has been moved once or twice, so as to fulfil its purpose to the best advantage, but the engineer will be kept on the alert until the currents change their courses and refrain from piling up further drift at this point. This light, coming as it does at the entrance to the bottle-neck of the English Channel, is of prime importance to navigation, because vessels, after they have rounded the South Foreland, make a bee-line for this headland. Since the eastern coast of England is flanked by sandbanks and shoals, the lighthouse is not in powerful evidence, the aids to navigation consisting chiefly of light-vessels, which are distributed liberally so as to patrol completely a treacherous stretch of shoals. Northwards the sandy, low-lying wastes give way to towering cliffs, amongst which Flamborough Head and its light are conspicuous. At the far northern limit of the operations of Trinity House comes the Longstones, mounting guard over the terrible Farne Islands and their rocky outposts. Who has not heard of the heroism of Grace Darling, the light-keeper’s daughter, and the thrilling rescue, in the teeth of a hurricane, of the exhausted survivors of the _Forfarshire_? Complaints have been made often regarding the paucity of powerful lights around the coast of England, but the criticism scarcely is deserved. All the prominent and most dangerous spots are lighted adequately, and, as may be recognized, the provision of these lights has proved an exacting and costly enterprise. What England may lack in numbers in this particular field of engineering is compensated for by the daring nature of the works completed, which are regarded throughout the world as marvellous achievements. CHAPTER VII THE BELL ROCK AND SKERRYVORE LIGHTS